The World in Headlines
by Pockyvore
Summary: Observe for thirty days as I take an international news story, create a oneshot about it, ?, and profit!  Okay, not that last part.  Probably not romantic and T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! I'm Pockyvore, a new author, and it's a pleasure to meet you folks. Anyway, I was reading the news this morning (like the nerd I am) and had the most _amazing _idea for a fanfiction that would only work if I posted it today.

Anyway, I'm going to be taking one news story each day from a reliable news source (alas, the Onion would be fun, but whatever) and write a little Hetalia oneshot for it. This'll last for 30 days. I'll post it as soon as I can, but as I live in California, this may be a little later for you guys. Especially you Old World peeps. (Sorrypleasedon'tkillme)

Today's oneshot is based on "Italians Vote to Abandon Nuclear Energy" by Giada Zampano and Nathania Zevi seen in the Wall Street Journal on June 14th, 2011.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, the news, the WSJ, Silvio Berlusconi, or nuclear energy. Other than my microwave, but my parents bought that before I was born so...

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><p>Italy let out an indecisive "Veh~" and looked down at the ballot, squirming in his chair. His boss and Fratello were the only others in the room, but it was more tense than the entire audience of his grandpa's chariot races could ever hope to be.<p>

He really wished he hadn't come here today. Not because he didn't know what his decision was going to be- that was obvious- but because it was brining up so many bad memories for him. He didn't like remembering the things he had seen. His friends and acquaintences alike had been hurt so much. He felt like he'd get rid of his breakfast all over the ballot. At least he hadn't eaten gelato.

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><p><em>He waited at Germany's shoulder while he kept calling, asking about his bruder. The Nordics had spoken with them earlier with talk of radiation, radiation everywhere, coming from the Soviet Union. Europe was in panic. <em>I wonder if everyone's okay, _he wondered. _Maybe they'll take the wall down and I can see Prussia and Hungary again and bring them pasta! No matter what happens, pasta will make it better! _That said, he hadn't been able to speak to either of them in years._

_Germany was shouting into the receiver. "I DON'T CARE WHAT THE REGULATIONS ARE, I'M GOING TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED OR-" His voice was filled with venom, but he spoke the next words so calmly that Italy felt the chills. "If you bastards won't speak with us, fine. But remember that someday, you'll be facing all of Europe, and we'll make you tell the truth."_

_When he hung up for what would be the last time, Germany hid his face in his hands, but not before Italy could catch his utterly defeated expression. For once, he remained silent._

_Years later, after a world meeting, Italy saw the pictures of Belarus and Ukraine, and screamed._

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><p><em>Just a few weeks ago, he was at Japan's house, visiting him and Fukushima. The little boy and his pet pig were still asleep, but Japan was reading in his hospital bed. <em>

_"Hi, Japan!" Italy called cheerfully, trying not to worry too much about the bandages covering his shoulder and upper torso. "Come stai?"_

_"I'm doing well enough, for an old man," Japan mused. "How are you today, Italy- kun? Where is Germany- san?"_

_"Oh, he had a meeting with his boss today. He and his fratello are talking about something. But I'm doing fine! I brought you some pasta, see?"_

_Japan smiled gratefully. "I am in your debt, Italy- kun. Please, come sit down."_

_He complied, taking a look at all of the flowers and get- well cards on his desk. He could see Fukushima and his piggy better from there. The boy looked pained, and the bandages covered much of what Italy could see. The pig wasn't any better off._

_"Veh~ Japan, how is everything going with the power plant?"_

_He was stupid for saying it. Obviously it wasn't going well. Japan looked pained for a moment, but took a bite of the pasta and smiled faintly again. "Delicious. Thank you, Italy- kun."_

_"You're welcome, Japan!" He noticed one of the prefecures, Iwate, enter the room quietly with a glass of milk. "Hi, Iwate- chan! Could I have some too?"_

_Japan suddenly jerked from his position enough to grab Italy's hand, a spark of _something _in his eye that reminded him of Germany's feeling in 1986. "Don't drink that," he said firmly._

_He was confused. "Japan, why can't I? What happened?"_

_"Italy- sama, I must regretfully inform you that our milk has some radiation in it at this time," Iwate murmured with a bow. "If you'd like, sir, Austria- sama has brought in a delicious cake that we'd be happy to share with you." _

_"No thank you," Italy replied._

_"I see. Please call us if you need us." Iwate took one long, grief- stricken look at her brother before leaving the room._

_Italy and Japan stared after her in another awkward silence before Italy's cell rang._

_"It's my boss," he said. "I have to go. Veh..."_

_Japan smiled. "It was wonderful getting to see you, Italy- kun. I hope you come visit this old man soon. Please tell Germany- san I said hello."_

_On his way out of the house, Italy couldn't stop thinking about what must be under the bandages._

_The next day, Germany called him first thing to let him know that he was planning to abandon nuclear energy._

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><p>Italy was shocked out of his reverie by a very unsubtle kick on the shin that made him bite down on his lip. His fratello was glaring at him impatiently, as if to say, <em>If you know what you're doing, get it over with. <em>His boss was looking sickened and distracted (probably dreading Fratello cussing him out and/or throwing feminine undergarments at him). And his ballot was still blank.

He lifted his pencil very slowly and filled in the bubble that read "I, Feliciano Vargas, accept the decision to overturn the referendums that allow nuclear energy to be used in this country."

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><p>So... what did you think? :D Sorry about the formatting; I'm an idiot so I'll need time to get the hang of it. Reviews would be great. Please keep criticism constructive, because I beat myself up about everything. I'm not kidding. ^_^;;<p>

See you tomorrow!


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the reviews, etc. last chapter. They make me so happy~

Today's story is based on "Beijing Warns Against Sea Meddling" by Brian Spegele seen in the Wall Street Journal on June 15th, 2011.

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><p>"I SAID NO, ARU! . . . TELL HIM THAT, THEN. GOOD<em>BYE, <em>ARU."

Korea and Hong Kong, who had been playing one of Japan's old video games, looked at each other knowingly before taking a heaping handful of popcorn.

China staggered over from the front door to their couch (it was Western, _too _Western, he mentally fumed) and flopped down lifelessly. He didn't even care that his head was in the popcorn bowl. These past few days had worn a little on his sanity.

Hong Kong paused the game and turned to face his older brother. "How was Guangdong's protesting going?"

China cracked one eye open, just enough to glare at his semiautonomous brother. "Oh, it was just _dandy, aru. _Look, I brought you back a T- shirt, aru!"

Korea jumped in with a "Protesting originated in me, da- ze!"

"No one cares, aru," China muttered into a pillow. "But it's probably true. 'Aniki, Aniki, gimme kimchi! I don't wanna eat this gross stuff!' That's all I heard out of you when you were little... Aah, nostalgic days..."

Korea smirked. "Yeah, cause kimchi is better than all your crap, da- ze! Anyway, why were you gone so long, Aniki?"

"AAGHSTUPIDPHILIPPINESWASIN_MY_-"

"We can't understand you, _ge ge,_" Hong Kong deadpanned.

"_Aagh. Stupid Philippines was in _my _water and then stupid America got into it,_ aru." China repeated, slowly and calmly. (Calmly as in, "get this guy to a shrink, I think he's going to kill someone.")

"Oh yeah. By the way, Vietnam's still really pissed about that whole boat thing. She hasn't spoken to me in-"

"_I don't care, aru," _China muttered, cutting Hong Kong off. "She, Taiwan, Malaysia, Brunei, and the Philippines need to _stop claiming _my _stupid South China Sea, aru. _And North Korea can't just send _ships _through it without telling anyone like that. And I think it's suspicious that the area is so rich in oil and America just _happens_ to want to be the hero. So everyone just needs to leave me alone and get me some freaking baiju. ARU. And..."

Korea didn't hear much of his Aniki's rant because he was busy trying to find the bottle of baiju. He faintly remembered drinking some with Hong Kong last night, but not much, because obviously he'd been drunk after that. (The hangover was epic; he still wasn't over it.)

Oh, there it was.

"... And _where did Korea go _and I want my panda, aru. Oh, hi, Korea. Why is that bottle open?"

Korea handed to him and pulled a lie out of his ass. "Remember drinking with Russia last week?"

"Oh, right. Thanks, Korea."

Hong Kong ran upstairs to China's room and got a pillow, a blanket, and plushies of Shinatty and a panda. The two tucked China in, handed him the plushies and the alcohol, and resumed their game- playing upstairs.

When they came back down to get more popcorn, they found China peacefully asleep on the couch.

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><p>Wow, short chapter. I guess I didn't want to keep China suffering for long, poor thing. (I enjoyed writing about the Asians. Asian families are impossibly cool. Not that mine's not.)<p>

See you tomorrow!


	3. Chapter 3

As always, thank you for your feedback~ This is so fun that I can't wait for the next morning to come so I can write. I ACTUALLY WANT MY SUMMER TO GO BY FASTER. That's... really scary.

Anyway, since I forgot last time: ME NO OWN NADA.

Today's story is based on "Fresh Greek Shock Waves" by Costas Paris, Alkman Granitsas, and Bruce Orwall and "Austerity Measures Spark Tensions In Europe, as U.K. Unions Plan Strike" by a WSJ Roundup. Both were seen in the Wall Street Journal (as always) on June 16th, 2011.

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><p>Sniff.<p>

Cough.

"Achoo!"

Glass shattering a few blocks down.

"My God, America, cover your _mouth _when you sneeze-"

More coughing.

Shouting on the streets.

"I'm trying to help them. I'm trying to help them. I'm trying to help them."

England sighed, Dracula- coughing into his jacket, and looked out at Athens in riot. Greece had been in turmoil over his debt for _ages, _but this time even the Greek government may or may not collapse. Many countries, mostly European, were in Athens to see live developments in the situation and Greece doing something other than sleeping. (They'd caught a glimpse of him earlier, looking ill, but hurling rocks at someone.) The only human in the room was Greece's PM, George Papandreou, who was muttering to himself about trying to help someone while filling out a sizable stack of paperwork.

"Hey, Jerk," Sealand, whom America thought would be _funny _to hide on the train, nagged, tugging on England's coat. "Why're we here?"

England was too distracted to scold him. "Do you see the condition everyone's in?"

"Yeah."

"Greece is having a lot of problems with his money. He's in a lot of debt to the EU, like Portugal and your cousin Ireland. His problems are pulling our stocks down- that's why everyone's a little sick- and the European countries are trying to help him by taking steps to lessen his debt."

"Oh." Sealand looked confused. His noble Kirkland eyebrows were furrowed."So then why is everyone mad about it? Isn't that good?"

"They don't like how the government's going about doing so because their wages will have to be cut," England explained, glancing at the corner of the large office room. He was watching the eurozone countries argue around a notebook.

Germany, flanked by Prussia, was speaking. "We just need to give to the private sector-"

France shook his head. "That will not work, _Allemagne! _At zis rate, 'e will have no money by next month! If _Amérique's _zituationis any indication, ze private zector may try to 'oard ze money anyway! Ze problem will not be zolved!" England took note of his thick accent- it tended to pop up when Old Frog was frustrated enough.

Arguments volleyed back and forth amid the occasional cough or sneeze. Finally, they decided to take a break and get some coffee.

England intercepted France on the way to the cafeteria. "Oi, Frog. Hold up."

"Hmm?" France responded, looking tired and somewhat pale. "Oh, _Angleterre._"

England was absolutely _not _concerned in _any _way for Frog. "How have your banks been doing?"

Always the drama queen, Frog rolled his eyes. He seemed more relaxed, though- his accent had disappeared. "As exposed to Greece as always. But it is nothing I will not get over."

The two continued their walk in silence. Finally, France broke he silence. "So, how are yours?"

"Not very good. This isn't helping my unemployment issues, and my people are planning strikes."

"Ah, so you have decided to take a leaf from your big brother's book, _ON HON HON~"_

England lightly punched Old Frog's shoulder, but he the two of them were too exhausted to do much. During the coffee break, they only listened passively to their fellow countries goofing off in the middle of a rioting city. But it was kind of peaceful in a way.

After all, these things could wait until after one little coffee break.

Couldn't they?

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><p>Well, we should see developments after said coffee break pretty soon. I really hope everything in Greece turns out okay, but it really doesn't look fun across the pond right now : Meanwhile, updates on nuclear energy: Germany's trying to figure out how phasing out nuclear energy will fit in with their green energy goals, whereas China says that their reactors are perfectly safe and are just going to build more.

Reviews are always appreciated! I love to see one waiting for me while pounding out AP work.


	4. Chapter 4

Guess who, after a two- hour Customer Support call, _finally _got Italian Rosetta Stone installed? IO!

Thanks for reviewing/faving/storyalerting!

Anyway! Today's story is "Vancouver Tallies Damage After Hockey- Fan Rioting" by Nirmala Menon and Chip Cummins seen in the Wall Street Journal on June 17th, 2011.

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><p>Canada groaned and rolled over in bed. His head pounded. Today he was just going to stay <em>right there, <em>holding Kumakichiorwhateverhisfacewas, and not do _anything. _Even eat.

Wait, where was Kumachico?

He shot up, ignoring his protesting head, and shouted, "Where's Kuma-"

"Dude!" A strong hand held his shoulder. "Ca- uh, Matt. You have a concussion. Don't freak out." When his eyes came into focus, he saw America there, holding his shoulder with one hand and Kuwojima in the other. "I've got him. See?"

Kumajijo jumped out of America's grip and curled up in Canada's lap.

"Wait, I have a concussion?" Canada slurred as America placed his glasses on his nose. He blinked. _Much better. _"And why did you just call me Matt?"

"Well, first thing is, we're in a hospital in Vancouver, so I had to register you as a human," America explained, stepping back so his brother could look around. "So call me Al. And second thing... OK, if I tell you, will you _promise _on the life of all maple trees forever that you won't totally freak out at me?"

Canada blinked back surprise, rubbing the back of his (bandaged) head. What could anyone have done to...? Whatever, he may as well hear it. "Am- Al, what happened?"

America took a deep breath, wondering how he should break it to him. "It involved a hockey game. Game seven of the Stanley Cup, to be exact. And the Bruins kinda..."

Canada's eyes grew wide with horror. He promptly squeezed them shut. His headache was worse. "Oh, God. No. What was the score?"

"F- four to nothing."

"No. It can't be. It can't be. IT CAN'T BE." Canada held his head in his hands. "Al. Why? How? What did I do to deserve-"

America hugged him gently, by which I mean "he nearly broke the poor hospital patient's bones, but hey, it's the thought that counts!" He murmured into his sobbing brother's ear, "It's okay, Canada. It's okay."

Canada wiped at his eyes. "So then why am I here?"

"There was a... thing... after the game."

"A... thing."

"Yes. A thing."

"Care to define that?"

"... A riot."

Suddenly, Canada remembered it all:

_There were only a few minutes left in the third quarter. It was hopeless. Canada drifted out of the stadium in tears. Why did America always have to win? _

_He kept wandering around until he found a sports bar. The TV was broadcasting the score. 4-0 (Final). He thought he'd been resigned to his fate, but seeing this broke his heart all the more._

_Said broken heart was filling up with pure rage. This was a side of Canada you never wanted to bring out. This was the side that possessed him when he and England burned down the White House and made the Germans crap their sorry pants during World War Two. _

_This was the side that joined hundreds of his people in an all- out riot and only stopped when he was slammed headfirst into a car._

"Oh. Oh, my God. My reputation. _My reputation is gone. _My boss is going to murder me. My people are probably going to hide in their houses for the next _decade. _Ame- Al, what do I _do?"_

"I wouldn't say your reputation's gone! I saw you fighting right before you went down, and _dude, _you kick ass! Like a _boss!"_

"AL! NOT HELPING!"

"But no, seriously, this isn't the first time stuff like this happened. I think something happened in England a while back where a bunch of people actually died. Plus I was watching CNN earlier. I didn't even see anything on the marquee." America slurped down a milkshake thoughtfully. "In fact, if I wasn't there for the game, my _heroicalificness _probably wouldn't have noticed anything! Ha ha ha ha ha!"

"Al. I hate you." But Canada couldn't help but laugh. Here he was, the _mature _one, in the hospital over a _sports match. _It was ridiculous how alike he and his brother could be sometimes. "I hate you so much."

America quirked an eyebrow. "So how can I make it up to you?"

Canada thought for a moment. "Take notes if you know how to write. I want some Advil, a few books from the library down the street, a really nice cup of jasmine tea, my laptop, my cell phone, Kumaasl;dfj's food, clothes for when I'm out of this stupid hospital gown, and most of all, a really big stack of pancakes with maple syrup."

America nodded, showing his annoying "I'm the hero!" smile. "Got it! To the Almobile!" he shouted, got up, and dashed out of the hospital room. It was only afterwards that Canada realized what America might do.

"AL! NOT THE CRAPPY MCDONALDS SYRUP!"

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><p>As you can probably tell, I don't really like human names. It's not the names themselves; in order to get everyone right, you have to research how the names would actually be spelled. And then not everyone has one and you have to make crap up. That said, Mathieu <em>will <em>be my first son's name.

So, whadja think? Please tell me. Reviews are even better than candy- they make me feel warm and fluffy without making me fat! XD


	5. Chapter 5

It's my parents' anniversary today! :D

Today's story is based on "Europe Shirts Path for Greek Rescue" by Stephen Fidler and Matthew Dalton, seen in the Wall Street Journal on June 18th, 2011.

If I owned Hetalia, I would kidnap Austria and go into a Belarusesque "Marrymarrymarry" mode. We wouldn't want that, now would we?

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><p>Germany tossed his bag in front of him before resigning himself to the window seat of the bullet train. His brother flopped down next to him. In the seats facing his, France and Austria were settling down.<p>

He checked his BlackBerry (what an odd little device) for the thousandth time, watching a conversation fly between all his senior officers until he spotted the message he'd been waiting for. France's eyes met his.

"So, they have announced it," France stated with a yawn. "Well, your Big Brother needs his beauty sleep now~"

Germany was absolutely firm in his belief that a certain _someone _would _not _approve of the way France was leaning over Austria when he fell asleep. (Austria just looked vaguely miffed, though he probably was too tired from spending two nights up drafting papers with the rest of the eurozone.)

He checked the BBC website just to be sure. The article let him know that no major changes had been made since he'd been involved, which saved him about an hour of leafing through texts and e- mails from his boss as well as France's.

"The awesome me is like, _way _too awesome to have dark circles under his eyes! Kesesese!" His Bruder threw on his headphones, his iPod blasting at 120% volume. Somehow, he fell asleep. Germany was convinced he must have selective deafness by now.

The train set off without much event, but Germany could never fall asleep on trains. He kept his eyes trained on the passing Greek scenery.

Austria's glasses had been reflecting the light of the window, but once he shifted, Germany saw that he too was restless. "Having piano withdrawals?"

The musician adjusted his glasses in indignation. "And if I am?"

Germany chuckled. "Nothing really. I'm just too tired to think of anything else to say."

"You can sleep if you want to," he invited. "I won't be sleeping until I'm back in Vienna."

_Vienna, Vienna. Vienna Initiative. _"Well, neither will I. Except for the Vienna part. That's what's keeping me awake, but you knew that already."

"I knew what?"

"The Vienna Initiative! The thing the whole meeting came to an end with..."

The pianist looked jarred, checking his watch. "Germany, are you having any memory problems? That was two years ago-"

"No, no. We're modeling the Greek debt solution over yours. Were you even there for the end of the meeting?"

"...It's a distinct possibility."

"You weren't _there?" _Germany's OCD was taking over. How could he not show up for a meeting of such magnitude?

Austria stared out the window. "I may or may not have found a piano on my way to the other conference room, and I _may or may not _have found myself a _little bit _sidetracked."

"You're hopeless."

"You're not the first to inform me, but thank you nonetheless. Would you mind explaining to me what's going on with the Vienna Initiative?"

Germany sighed. "Remember '09? When we were all worried about everyone abandoning their funds in some Eastern Europe countries?"

"I never noticed that Latvia shook so much," Austria noted unhelpfully.

"Pay attention. We decided that we needed to keep our funds there because we thought it would be a shame for that area to go broke. We're doing the same thing in Greece."

"Wait. None of them owed any of us as much, and they were growing."

"Admittedly, Greece is different," Germany allowed, "But we need to keep investments in him like we did the countries in '09 so that we don't have to pay as much bailout."

Austria's frugal mind was at work. "Well... when you put it that way..."

Germany nodded. "Exactly. And we're still thinking about how to do bond rollovers and get the private sector involved, so it'll still be able to tailor- fit Greece as much as we can. But we won't get anything done half- asleep like this, so let's talk about it after we get some rest.

"That sounds excellent," Austria agreed, taking his own headphones and iPod out.

Germany soon found that, when pushed to his limits, he really could sleep on a train.

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><p>The next thing he knew, Austria was shaking him awake. "They announced my transfer, and France won't wake up. Is he coming with me?"<p>

"_Nein. _He's staying with us in Berlin for a bit to meet up with his boss." Germany yawned and stretched. "Have a good one. We'll be seeing a lot of each other soon."

"I'm sure we will. Take care of yourself."

"You, too. _Don't get lost."_

He held up a map, Switzerland's angry handwriting detailing _exactly _what steps he was to take home. "I'll have you know that this is the _second _time I've ridden a Eurail train alone. I believe I can handle it."

The doors opened, and he was gone.

Germany idly wondered who he was more worried for: Greece or Austria.

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><p>Minor detail: If they make a mistake in Greece, Europe is going to have <em>major issues. <em>Also, the Vienna Initiative involved giving to Hungary, Romania, Bosnia, Serbia, and... Latvia. Poor little guy up north with all those scary Southeasterners. *hugs*

Hope you liked it! Thanks for reviewing/favoriting, as always.


	6. Chapter 6

Happy Father's Day! I still haven't made my dad anything. DON'T TELL HIM.

I don't have the Wall Street Journal to work from this morning, and I don't trust my local paper. Also, last chapter mysteriously had the word "Shirts" in the title of the article. We threw out the papers before I could see the real word. Sorry. XD

Today's story is based on "Parents' behaviour 'can influence teen drinking'" by Dominic Hughes (published June 16th) seen at www (dot) bbc (dot) co (dot) uk/news/health-13779834 on June 19th, 2011. In this fic, I quote a lot of it. Dedicated: to dads everywhere. Sorry that it's so Iggycentric, but he _is _a dad. Sorta.

Disclaimer: OK, this is **FAN**FICTION. I should think posting it here is disclaimer enough.

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><p>England was enjoying a cup of tea before he had to catch a plane back to Greece. His boss had had ninjas of some sort wait outside all night to confiscate his paper to avoid him becoming distracted, but he was smarter than that! He was checking the BBC on his phone! Hah!<p>

That said, he was having trouble with the mobile site. As a gentleman, this was his last resort. He wasn't quite used to using it. That's why, instead of clicking on a story related to Lybia, he accidentally caused an article about teen drinking to load.

"Oh, you wanker," he muttered, but he couldn't find the Back button, so he read it anyway.

The eyecatch: "**Children who see their parents drunk are twice as likely to get drunk . . ."**

England's eyes grew wide. _Oh, WANKER. _He was thinking about America and someone else he couldn't remember just then, who'd seen France and himself drunk too many times to count.

"Poor parental supervision also raises the likelihood . . ."

England's face and ears burned in a decidedly ungentlemanly fashion. _Why did I leave America to himself? He was growing tobacco at that age! My king, even back then, thought it had poor health effects! He had such bad influences, and I wasn't there to keep an eye on him. _And then there was that one time where he'd tried to get him drunk.

Oh yes, and that other child. He knew he must have been a poor supervisor if he couldn't even remember the name or face of the kid. _Ugh. My apologies, Nameless._

". . . the behaviour of friends is also a powerful factor . . . The more time teenagers spent with friends, the more likely they are to drink alcohol . . ."

Even the tip of his nose was bright scarlet. This was too much for him to absorb on Father's Day. It was like karma for all of those Empire years. Or being cruel to Sealand- God save the Queen, what if _he _was off drinking too? _-_

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, Greece and Lybia forgotten. He was such a terrible adoptive father/brother/_thing_. No wonder America and Sealand had ended up brats. No wonder the other person had ended up with such an unstable persona that his own father/brother/thing couldn't remember who he was (though Old Frog was partially to blame for that).

His aide, Allen, entered the room with a parcel. "Sir, this came in the mail. Your boss requests that you open it now but be prepared to leave in twenty minutes."

"Thank you, Allen. Good day." There was no return address, and the tag was written out by a word processor. He opened it cautiously- if it was a bomb, it-

_POOF!_

GOD SAVE THE QUEEN, IT WAS A-

Pop- out card?

England stared in disbelief as the purple smoke cleared and the pop- out words "Happy Father's Day" stared him down. America, Canada (who had attached a signed picture of himself for England to remember who he was), Australia, and Sealand had signed it alongside a little message.

_Dude, I totally hope you like how we wrote this in- not alphabetical order- but order of AWESOMENESS! HA! FIRST!_

_G'day, mate! Hope you're having a great one! My mate Koala says hi too._

_I don't know if you remember me, so here's a picture. I appreciate your care for me when I was growing up! Have a great day!_

_Your a jerk but your cool so happy fathers day._

England glanced back and forth between his phone and the card in disbelief. Who had remembered to send him a Father's Day card? Who had gotten everyone to sign it? Whoever had, he was touched. So- and- so had lived up to his gentlemanly standards. He was proud.

Maybe he wasn't such a bad influence after all.

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><p>Meanwhile, at China's house...<p>

"Hey, _ge ge_." Hong Kong shoved his laptop at China. "See what the BBC wrote about teenage drinking?"

"That it originated in Korea?" suggested a certain country.

"No, that _ge ge _was a bad influence on us."

"Oh," China said, eyes skimming the article. "Do you care that much?"

"No," answered the boys simultaneously.

"It's about time for dinner, aru. Think we should go to a bar?"

"YES," was the unanimous response before they ran upstairs to get ready.

"I think they're growing up to be fine young men, aru," China commented as he followed suit.

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><p>So. How was it? Seriously, your reviews make me feel so happy and fluffy. THANK YOU! :D<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

I had a dream last night that Hayley from Paramore was having a poolside concert at the hotel my school was at. She sang "High School of the Dead." It was pretty awesome. (And I don't even follow Paramore.)

Today's story is based on "Europe Wrangles Over Greece" by Marcus Walker and Charles Forelle.

I still own nothing. Which is probably for the best.

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><p>They'd <em>sort of <em>agreed on what to do for the bailout package in the short term. They knew that they'd have to talk to the creditors and convince them to help fund Greece themselves without making the country default, which was fine in theory. As for how it would work in practice? That had been tabled until July in favor of other topics, mostly talks with Greece's government.

Italy got that, but it didn't sound like Greece would be able to repay everything even if they agreed with a solution- at least, that's what he _thought _default meant. During the meeting, everyone avoided the possibility that Greece might need even more money soon. At least the IMF had finally agreed to contribute.

"Hey, Germany," he said as the meeting started to disband. "What if Greece needs more money after we bail him out?"

Germany gave him an odd look. "Let's just put that thought on hold for July."

Prussia stepped behind Italy and clapped him on the shoulder. "It's okay, _Italien! _The awesomeness that is me was at this meeting, so it'll never fail! Kesesese~"

Italy was worried now. Prussia didn't sound right. "B- but, no, really! The budget ministers really don't think what we're trying to do will-"

Germany took a deep breath. "_Italien. _It's going to be all right. We can wait."

"But they're going to run out of money in July! And if the government collapses-"

Prussia pulled Italy up from his chair. "Hey, I think I see Spain and Romano over there! Let's go say hi, Ita!"

Prussia was silent as he guided him through the gaggle of countries to the back of the room. Then he spoke:

"You're not a kid anymore, so I don't know why I shouldn't tell it to you like it is. First of all, we're going to be hit hardest by Greece's problems. Plus we haven't figured out what to do if any of the things you mentioned will happen- Boss Merkel just dropped the plan we were working on for a while, too. So we're stressed. Oh, yeah- was it you or Romano who went to the G7 the other day?"

"It was Romano, and he said the details are confidential."

"Yeah, that's what my bruder said. Okay, so at least we haven't heard anything bad, right? Maybe they came up with something awesome and can't tell us for some reason. Really, try not to worry too much. We'll just keep the meetings going, and we'll keep talking to Greece about the money we talked about last year."

"But what if it all goes wrong? What if the eurozone . . ."

Collapses, they both thought.

"We've survived awesomely enough without it before, right?" Prussia fingered his Iron Cross absentmindedly. "It would be tough. It would totally suck. But we'd all survive, and sooner or later we'd be awesome enough again to try again. That's one awesome worst- case scenario, kesesese~"

"Yeah . . . you're right . . ." When he thought of it that way, Italy felt hopeful. Everyone was working very productively. In his free time (always nice to have a brother to switch off with), Italy could make his best pasta recipe and serve it at the meeting.

"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. Hungary's going to pass the Presidency of the Council of the EU on to Poland at the end of the month, so I was thinking we should have an awesome dinner party like we did in December. You wanna plan for that during lunch today?"

"Yes, sir!" Italy saluted (Germany'd told him "Left hand," right?) and went to go talk to Romano about filling in for him on the 29th.

* * *

><p>Ugh, I didn't really like this one. The article was really confusing for some reason, and I don't think I set it up well. It's probably the last of the Greek Developments Arc (wait, it has a name?) until they deal with the specifics of the bailout package, but that doesn't mean I'm abandoning Europe. I'm excited for the Power Trio of the EU Council that's coming up- Belgium, Hungary, and Poland. That's going to be insane(ly awesome)!<p>

Reviews are uber- appreciated! I like hearing what you guys have to say, especially cultural facts. Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

Heard the song "Order Made" by RADWIMPS? Seen Italy's MAD of it? I did both. And cried. *sparkly eyes*

Today's story is based on "China Floods Claim Victims, Crops" by Chuin-Wei Yap seen in the Wall Street Journal on Tuesday, June 21, 2011.

I still own nothing. Really. Aru.

* * *

><p>"My house."<p>

"We know, _ge ge._"

"My _house._"

"Try to calm down! This happens every-"

"My house _is full of water, aru!_" China held his face in his hands.

"Doesn't it like, always do this, though?" Hong Kong inspected the damage of the main hall from the table they were floating on. The water was only a few centimeters from reaching the kitchen's countertops, which was definitely not okay with him. (It was amusing to note that the island had actually _become _an island, though.)

China started paddling them back down the hall to the kitchen. "It usually only gets to the yard. It hasn't been like this for at least ten years, aru."

"Will this cost a lot to fix?" Hong Kong asked.

China glared at him. "Was that a joke?"

Sigh.

"Okay, this is too depressing for me to absorb this early, aru. I'm going back to bed and pretending this never-"

Hong Kong grabbed his hands to prevent him from paddling to the stairs. "No, we need to figure out a way to get out of here without letting more water in."

More discouraged glares from China . . .

"Well, at least it isn't still a drought," he offered.

"It's still killing people and crops, aru," China muttered. He shook his head slightly. "Someone's missing, aru. Where'd Korea go?"

"Oh, he's been home for a few days," the semiautonomous teen replied. "He _was _coming over with snacks and a new video game."

"Maybe you should go to his house, Hong Kong. I don't want you to get sick from mold, aru."

"Okay. Provided I can get out of _here._"

They were silent for a second again, floating aimlessly in the middle of the kitchen, until a ghastly noise sounded. Hong Kong did a barrel roll onto the island-that-now-lived-up-to-its-name.

"WHAT WAS THAT?"

"Oh," China held up his cell phone. "I left it down here last night, but I saved it before it broke completely, aru. My poor ringtone, aruuu."

Hong Kong stared incredulously for a second. "Okay, I don't care how much repairing the house needs or how much it costs. You are getting a new mobile." To make his point, he grabbed it from China and threw it out down the hall.

The scene reminded him vaguely of that Swedish game, Amnesia. He waited for a water monster to swim up to it and try to eat him alive (seriously, Sweden was MESSED UP). But it was ten in the morning and the house was too Asian- looking to be that castle in Prussia.

"My cell phone."

"Your _mobile. _Seriously, don't start this again."

"Shut up, aru. My bosses need to talk to me! I have an emergency meeting at one, aru!"

Hong Kong sighed and took a potsticker from the plate on the island. "That's all you needed to know. Just make them get you a new one."

China was distracted. "Do you hear a helicopter?"

"N- Wait. Yeah."

"Is it getting closer?"

"I think so."

"To the roof, aru."

They stared in disbelief as Korea landed a helicopter in the middle of China's roof.

Finally the engines died down and their brother hopped out. "Yo, guys! I was trying to buy food, but is was really expensive, and then there was all this water . . ."

China facepalmed. "I was already dealing with inflation, aru. Why is it always me?"

Korea held up a huge bag. "Think this'll last us half the game?"

Hong Kong nodded in approval. "Just possibly."

Korea motioned to the 'copter. "Well, let's ditch this aquarium. We can do Black Ops at my place."

"I have a meeting, aru. It should be on the way."

"Okay! Carpool was invented in Korea, so I'll drop you off, da ze!"

They hopped into the helicopter. China sure hadn't counted on this as a way out of his flooded house. Well, insanity is what families are for, he supposed.

Korea checked his laptop. "So how did eHow say I was supposed to do this again?"

"YOU MEAN YOU DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO FLY A HELICOPTER?" the passengers- or rather, victims- screamed.

Korea grinned back at them with the brightness of a thousand gold Shinatty statues. "It's okay, da ze! The Internet is my friend! I invented it, after all."

For the entire ride, China and Hong Kong huddled in the back, trying not to hurl.

* * *

><p>I don't know why I like those three so much. I wish I could write them with their sisters, but they're not really on speaking terms at the moment. *sigh* Also, that game I mentioned? Watch Mangaminx's Let's Play of Amnesia: The Dark Descent and try not to cry like a baby. It takes place in Prussia, so you know it's awesome!<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Ah, Greece. Well, the good news is that the government didn't collapse. The bad news is that everyone's mad about it. Sigh.

Today's article is "U.S., Japan Postpone Plan to Shut Marine Base" by Nathan Hodge.

Still posting it here, not on Hima's blog. I'm not even that good at kanji yet.

* * *

><p>"I believe we should wait before we make a decision about the new military base," Japan admitted collectedly. Then, with a motion to his bandaged shoulder: "I have . . . bigger fish to fly."<p>

"Dude, you're totally right. I'm broke." America hopped onto Japan's bed and stratched behind Pochi's ears.

Japan sighed and sat down next to him. He'd just gotten out of the hospital. He had Band-Aids all over his torso instead of bandage tape, but his shoulder was still enclosed in gauze. He was constantly in and out of a local health clinic. He remembered a quote from one of America's movies: "There's always a bigger fish."

"I think Okinawa hates me," said America. "I think he called me 'loud, and obnoxiously rowdy,' but I couldn't hear him. I was listening to my iPod. Does Okinawa hate me?"

"No, Okinawa does not hate you. He considers you a necessary evil." Japan smiled a little despite himself. America taxed his (and Okinawa's) nerves when he used his military base like a summer home, but he knew America was only trying to help.

"Hey!" America cried mock-indignantly, playfully punching Japan on the shoulder. Except it hurt. The smaller nation inhaled sharply.

America shot up and rubbed Japan's back. "Dude, are you okay? I'm really sorry. You want some ice, or-"

Japan shook his head, the pain fading. "I'm fine. It's all light, thank you."

Pochi jumped off the bed, so America let him out of the bedroom. Leaning against the sliding door, he asked, "So what does it look like now?"

"Does what?"

"The injury. Can I see it?"

Japan twitched. "Ah, well, the doctor says I shouldn't keep it uncovered for long-" (A lie.)

"Dude, it'll take, like, five seconds. I just want to see the bandages or whatever. Come on, pleeeease?"

"It's cold, and it takes time to remove traditional Japanese clothes-" (Though it was quite warm indeed, and he was wearing a simple yukata.)

"Japan. Seriously, no homo, but I'll help you take off your shirt. Pretty please, with wasabi on top?"

The island nation sighed. "If you insist. And no, I can help myself." Slowly, and with some difficulty, he slipped the top of the yukata over his shoulders.

The blond nation was more silent than Japan had seen him in a long time. His eyes traced over his left shoulder, then the Band-Aids that ended at about the top of his stomach. Finally America's eyes met his. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. しょうがなかった。I just need time. Berarus and Ukraine are normal now, aren't they?"

America shrugged. "I guess. Those pictures seriously freaked me out, though. Radiation ain't pretty."

Japan nodded, replacing the yukata's fabric to his shoulders. "I agree."

"But, the point is, that's why I need to protect you and be all heroic! And then that Commie Juche piggy North Korea can just _try _to be a villain when I Falcon Punch him _like a boss _until he can't even digest his own self- pity! Hahahaha!"

The abrupt shift in character caught Japan off guard. America amazed him sometimes. "I believe, especially in a time of vulnerability like this, and with Asia in unrest, it will be crucial for our military alliance to be maintained."

"Exactly! We're friends forever! Aren't we, Japan-chan?"

"J- Japan-chan?" the Asian sputtered.

"Oh, good, I got the particle thingy right! Awesomeness!" America was certainly being America. "Hey, so I was thinking we should go to a sushi bar later and totally rock out at carryokey! Whaddya say? Comeoncomeoncomeon!"

_This youngster, _Japan thought. "Err."

"Cool, you're coming! Muchas gracias, amigo! See ya in ten!" He zipped downstairs.

Well, he supposed he was going. Japan glanced down at himself and decided that this yukata was nice enough to wear out on the town.

_No matter how long I spend with him, I will never understand him completely. _

* * *

><p>Yay for confusing Westerners! I'm a Californian, so of course "Like" is my verbal tic (as well as "totally," but that one sounds lame now so I'm trying to break the habit of sounding like Poland). I was telling my friend, "You know, I think we say 'like' a lot more than we think we do." Her reply? The priceless "Yeah. We, like, really say it a lot, like huh." (We both have dark hair and straight As, so it's not just the valley girls.)<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

Last night I watched a German movie called "Gloomy Sunday." Look up Netflix's blurb about it. _Tell me _that it doesn't sound like anyone we know of _at all. _They even threw in some yaoi.

Sorry for forgetting to thank you, but- THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REVIEWS. :D

Today's story: "French Threaten Delay on European Bank Chief" by David Gauthier-Villars seen in the Wall Street Journal on June 23rd, 2011.

As always, I do not and never will own Hetalia.

* * *

><p>The <em>Westminster Chimes <em>played from downstairs. A visitor!

"Coming!" Italy called, giving his hair a last towel- off and buttoning his shirt all the way.

He was puzzled to find Big Brother France in the open doorway. "_Ciao, _Big Brother France! Why is the door open?"

"_Salut, mon cher._" (He was wearing a suit, noticed Italy. Was this meant to be businesslike? Oh, he had the _worst _timing with showers.) "Your southern counterpart opened the door for me, but he fled at the sight of my radiant beauty, onhonhon~"

"You do look very fancy today," Italy noted, motioning for him to come in and have a seat on the couch. "Do you have a date later?"

France laughed in his quintessentially French manner. "Ah, how I wish, _mon cher. _Actually, I came to discuss something with you, _s'il te plaît._"

"Of course I will, Big Brother!" Italy rushed to the kitchen to grab a plate of pastries to present to his guest. Always best to keep up good manners.

France accepted a cannoli from the plate before speaking. "There is a little trouble with accepting the new president of the European Central Bank."

"Oh." The ginger was a little confused. "I thought you liked signor Draghi." Mario Draghi was currently his central bank manager, and had full support from the EU. What had happened?

"_Non, non! _I very much approve of him as a successor to Monsieur Trichet!"

"Then why is he a problem?"

"Remember our talks the other week about Monsieur Bini Smaghi?"

"Ah."

Lorenzo Bini Smaghi, an Italian, was one of the six members of the governing board on the ECB. Said governing board included the president, so France had been concerned that one- third of the European Bank's heads would be Italian. They'd tried to get him to resign, but no one had the power to _force _him to do anything- and he planned on serving out his last two years. Meanwhile, the meeting to make Mr. Draghi the president was later that day.

France took another bite of cannoli. "I think we may have to delay putting Monsieur Draghi on the board until he agrees to resign, _mon cher. _And when he does, maybe replacing him with a Frenchman would not be such a bad idea, _non?_ Some members of the EU are a little disappointed about their lack of representation."

Italy let out a despondent "Veh~" noise. "We really are trying, Big Brother! But I don't think he plans on doing anything right now. He isn't talking to the press."

"Please keep trying. _Dieu ne plaise, _but if you were to become unstable . . ."

Yes, God forbid anything happening to him at a time like this. "I get it, Big Brother. Thanks for coming by."

France patted him on the head in a very . . . uhh, you know how France is . . . way. (And of course Italy noticed nothing.) "Well, _adieu, mon cher. _I enjoyed the cannoli!"

Germany (and Prussia, but he was ordered to stay in the car) stopped by Italy's house to carpool to the meeting. He was significantly less stressed-out than he had been lately.

"Germanyyyyyyy!" Italy cried when he remembered. "Remember all that with the ECB and signor Draghi and signor Bini Smaghi and-"

"_Ja,_" Germany replied. "What about it?"

"Big Brother France came by to talk to me today and said he might have to postpone transitioning signor Draghi in! And he also spoke tons of weird French! What do we do?"

Germany couldn't believe France sometimes. Well, most of the time. Okay, 99.999394039% of the time (rounded to the nearest bajillionth). But he had a hard time not laughing at that. "Italy, calm down. It's very unlikely they'll delay bringing in Herr Draghi. Now let's get your _Bruder_ and get to the meeting."

Italy beamed. "If you say so! I can't wait." He called out, "Romano! Romano, France has been gone for a couple hours, and it's time for the meeting! You can come out now! . . . Want me to pack a tomato for you for the car? Romano? ROMANO?"

* * *

><p>I find French an annoying language, so I refuse to learn it (I plan to go into linguistics, so I'm learning a few right now). Much to the disappointment of my Francophile mom. Said mom is also really curious about this fic, and gets all "Nooo my little baby is in loooove" whenever I mention Austria. I try to explain these things, but she doesn't quite get it...<p>

レビューして下さいね～


	11. Chapter 11

Fun Fact: I'm visiting LA at the same time the show my uncle hosts is on, so I'll be watching it with him. He and my aunt are comedians, and my cousins are adorable. I can't wait to go~

Well, today's story is based on "Beijing's Moves Point to Europe Aid" by Owen Fletcher seen in the good ol' WSJ on June 24, 2011.

As usual, I own zip. Zero. Nada. Goose eggs. (What book is that from? I read it in second grade; that's all I remember about it.)

* * *

><p>"<em>Hello, Hungary speaking! Sorry, but you've reached my voicemail. I'll probably get to the phone sooner or later, unless you're Prussia, in which case I will send pyromaniacs to your basement hideout with petrol and matches. Please leave a message after the beep, and have a great day!<em>"

-Beeeeeep-

"_早上好__、_Hungary. It's China, aru. I was considering visiting your house today to consider investing in some more European debt. Please call back when you get this. Have a nice day, aru."

* * *

><p>"<em>This is England, or the representative for the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Not Iggy. If this is America, Sealand, or France, please press the 'End' button on your phone and leave a message. If this is anyone else, please press three and you will be redirected to my work line. Thank you."<em>

(-Beep-) _Please hold on one moment while your call is redirected._

"Why is this taking so long? I don't even like the Beatles, aru."

"_Hello, England speaking. Sorry, but I'm in a meeting right now. Please leave your message here and I'll reach you sooner or later. Have a good one."_

"_早上好__、_ Ahen. It's me, China, aru. I think I'm going to start buying more of your debt instead of America's, so I was wondering if you would have me over in a day or two for some meetings, aru. Please call back."

* * *

><p>"<em>Germany speaking. I either cannot or will not speak to you at the moment. Please judge which is which wisely before deciding whether or not to leave a message. Danke schön."<em>

-Beeeeeeeeeep-

_"__早上好__、_Germany. China here. I have developed an interest in buying eurozone debt, aru. I'm planning a short tour of Europe, so may I stay over to talk about it? Please call back as soon as you can, aru."

China stared at his cell phone. _Europeans really like avoiding each other, don't they. _He'd never do that with any of his siblings. But they avoided him too. Oh, so it wasn't just the Europeans.

He boarded his high-speed corporate jet (which was decorated with a Shinatty face just for him!) and wondered if he'd have to fly back as soon as he got to Hungary. Hmm, maybe he'd stop at a restaurant first or visit an anime shop.

* * *

><p>Somewhere over ArmeniaAzerbaijan/Georgia/way too freaking close to Russia for comfort, a flight attendant approached him with a "Sir, memos for you."

_Hi! Okay, I'll meet you at the Wi-Fi restaurant by the airport. I'm bringing my laptop with me because I NEED TO WIN THE CLICK CONTEST. Kay, back to work. ~Hungary_

_Of course you may visit London. Please call with your schedule as soon as you know what it is. And dear Lord, don't bring Korea with you this time. I don't know how many more "Scones originated in Korea"-like comments I can take. Thank you. ~England._

_Yes. Please let me know what day and time you'll be over and I will meet you. We can use Conference Room Five. Best of luck for your travels. ~Germany_

_We'll be landing on the Pest side in an hour or so. Please be ready for your first meeting. I checked what you packed and replaced your Hello Kitty suits with proper Western ones. Please be more sensible next time. ~Your boss_

"But she's Shinatty, not Hello Kitty, aru..." China lamented with a sigh. "Guess I better get changed."

* * *

><p>The clicking contest? Compete at www (dot) clickclickclick (dot) com. My netbook's virus protection just expired, and it didn't do anything; I swear it's safe. Hima talked about it in Teh Blog the other day. Hungary always wins. That and her Tamagochi funerals- did I choose the weirdest country to cosplay as or what? XD<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

I have Japanese class again in the city! I wish I could live there, seriously. You can donate to... (my address)

Today's article: "Marines Seeking Postwar Identity" by Nathan Hodge seen in the Wall Street Journal on June 25, 2011.

I still own nothing. My parents need to save their money to send me to Europe anyway.

* * *

><p>America compulsively checked his BlackBerry. Again.<p>

"Jeez . . ." he sighed. "You know how sick of Afaganaistan I am? I mean, I want them to be free and all, but it's all I ever hear about anymore."

"Afghanistan?" Japan suggested.

"Yes, that! I mean, come on. It's not like I care about Latin America anyway."

"あの . . ."

"It's okay, Japan, I was kidding. I know Anagramistan is in the Alps. Or in the Himaruyas. Or Queensland. Or something."

"America-san, I don't think . . . ah, well."

"It's okay though! Guess where my Marines are relocating to?" America's glasses gleamed mischeviously.

"Where would that be?" Japan asked.

"The . . . Pacific!" America gave him a thumbs-up. "Now do what your game shows do and get humiliated for not guessing or something!"

Japan smiled ruefully. "I would if I could, but I think this is enough."

He was back in the hospital after the 6.7 the other day. He remembered feeling that horrible twitching starting up again- it hadn't been as bad as March's had been, and there was no more blood, but it had gotten to him. He felt a little more comfortable having America there; while his earthquakes weren't as devastating, they were famous. _The California twins would get along well with Fukushima_, he thought, glancing over at his prefecture. _When he wakes up, maybe I'll have them over._

(It was no question that he would awaken; it was more of a question of how long it would take.)

America nudged his other shoulder. "I think it's cool, though! I'll get to spend, like, all my time in the Bermuda!"

"Bermuda? I thought you said you were rerocating to the-" Japan suddenly realized the mistake. "Americaさん、Bermuda is in the Atrantic Ocean. The Pacific is on the other side."

"No. Effing. Way."

"Yes, it is true. Please bring me that globe over there."

America grabbed it, holding it upside down.

"Allow me," Japan said, righting it. "See right here? That is the Pacific. This is the Atrantic. That is Belmuda. And this is where Japan is. We are here, in Tokyo."

America gaped. "Are you serious? This is totally awesome! Now I totally get it! My bosses kept talking about places like Vietnam and Korea and I had no idea why! Cause it's like, 'Why are you guys talking about Africa? Isn't that the Artkick Ocean?'"

Japan felt the need to point out his poor brother and sister on the map.

"Oh, they're Pacific too! I thought our bombs would get a better angle at the Artkick from the Pacific or something. You know, with the wind. Japan, you're sooo much smarter than Iggy. He calls me stupid and feeds me scones. I don't know which one's worse."

Japan laughed. "I found it amusing that_ nikujaga _was just as successful as the dish that Englandさん made, and all I did was try to make it look collect."

"Hamburgers are even better. But anyway, my bosses are texting me about you. They said we'll be staying over here a lot."

"Oh, really?" Japan asked. "The extra help would be appleciated."

"Uh huh. Oh, your brother, South Korea, too. Aaaagh."

"Does he get on your nerves?" Japan found that to be humourous. America and his brother were alike in numerous ways. "He's the baby of our family."

"You can tell," the bespectacled nation replied. "But at least he's good at video games."

"I'll give you some good ones if you keep him out of my house for me," Japan bribed.

"We are in business" was the reply he got.

"But yeah," America continued. "They're talking a lot about how tense and Communist it feels over here. And how South Korea and North Korea are getting madder at each other. And stuff. But at least it's not a desert!"

"That's progress," Japan offered.

America sighed and stood up. "Hey, Japan, I wish I could stay over here in this non-desert animeland of epic, but Bossy McBossBoss says I need to _exitar el nondeserto de anime_."

"Well, it was nice having you here," Japan said, handing him 800 yen. "Prease feel flee to buy something to tide you over on the plane."

"Will do, BFF."

He was almost out the door when Japan called out, "Wait." (This being Japan, it wasn't loud enough to constitute an exclamation point or spamming Caps Lock; to an average American, it was the same level as normal speech.)

"Yeees, Meester Samurai?"

"It seems that we'll be seeing each other a rot more soon, so did you want to plan a day in Akihabara? That's where they have video games and rots of arcades."

America grinned and peace-signed. "Sounds great! Operation Stay in Indian Ocean with Japan Playing Video Games All Day whilst our Marines Train Laborously is now in effect!"

And, faster than a speeding bullet, he was gone.

Japan sighed. This youngster and his constantly-running-off was too much for his old bones! But at least the ocean he mentioned was _closer _this time.

* * *

><p>It's true. Americans suck at geography (I've had my moments, but thanks to Geography class and Hetalia, I'm a lot better). My friend, who has lived in CA all her life like me, tried to find Hawaii in between the US and UK because she mixed up the Atlantic with the ocean she camps at an estimated 80 times a year. (She also thought Germany was twice the size of the US and in Latin America, and that Hungary was in Asia.) I recently told another friend that no, Canada is not a state.<p>

Also, I unconsciously typed a British spelling. I loved it so much I left it in. :D

Please review 3 It makes me happy. Thanks to those who do. 3


	13. Chapter 13

Good morning/afternoon/whenever you're reading this, folks! Yesterday, my Japanese teacher gave us three double-sided pieces of paper with tons of kanji on them. Incidentally, kanji is the only homework I actually love.

Today's story is "China's Hu Jia release: Guarded welcome from Europe" with no author shown on June 26th, 2011 seen here on the BBC website: www (dot) bbc (dot)co (dot)uk/news/world-asia-pacific-13920680 .

I still own nothing. If I said I did, that would be blowing my secret cover. ;P

* * *

><p>"Okay, you can let him out, aru." China didn't even care anymore. "Just don't let him talk."<p>

He was in England's house, drinking a cup of chai tea and talking to his bosses on his new cell phone. He'd bought plenty of Shinatty stickers, but they'd all peeled off, so he resorted to putting a picture of her as his wallpaper.

"Good morning," England greeted, making his way downstairs. He was in a suit already. "Seems that our officials are already out and about. Was there anything else you wanted to do before you catch your train?"

"Not really, aru," China replied. "I had a lot of fun at the car factory and Shakespeare's birthplace, aru. I think my old bones need to relax."

"Well, then, it seems we have time to chat," the Brit reasoned. "Who were you calling just a second a-"

_"God save our Gracious Queen-"_

"Hello? . . . Yes, I understand. No, he's here. All right. I'll call later."

England raised a thick eyebrow. "Hu Jia, is it?"

"Yes," China replied, knowing immediately what the call had been about. "Hu Jia has been released. But I don't think he's going to talk to the press right now, aru."

"Ah. Like Weiwei."

"I won't confirm anything, aru," China replied. _I'd never kill a child who won't get along. I'd just cover his mouth and refuse him attention- that's why the child is acting out, after all._

_Not that I've had very good luck with children. _His siblings's faces flashed in his mind. Japan's especially hurt to think of. Someday, he hoped he could gain the stoic nation's forgiveness. _I want to see each and every one of you smiling alongside me someday. But I can't see that day if my nation's unity is broken by fools._

"That's . . . good," England said cautiously. "You know we think he should be allowed to-"

"My government will deal with him as my government wishes."

"I . . . okay, then."

* * *

><p>From the cloud of data floating above Europe:<p>

Poland: _LIET! its like the guy who won the sakharov prize and his wife came and got it lol. ttly awesome like dude check ur txts_

Lithuania: _Hi, Poland! Yes, my boss just texted me an article about that. Apparently Mr. Jia has cirrhosis, so I hope he's doing all right._

Norway: _denmark, i swear to god i can't read a word of what you're saying_

Denmark: _FINE IF YOU SO INSIST I WILL TYPE PROPERLY AND IN BIG LETTERS SO YOUR EYES CAN READ. YOUR BOSS SENT YOU THE TEXT RIGHT_

Norway: _yes_

Denmark: _OKAY SO YEAH THE COMMUNISTS RELEASED HIM 8D_

Norway: _and for the news i didn't know...?_

Denmark: _SO YOU WANNA GO DRINKING_

Norway: _no_

Italy: _Hey, Germany! :D_

Germany: _You're sitting next to me. You just sent a text to a satellite flying thousands of miles away in the cold, dark vacuum of space, which just bounced back to a phone about forty centimeters away._

Italy: _Woooow, I never thought of it that way :DDDD_

Italy: _But this is still more fun :)_

Germany: _So what was it?_

Italy: _Why was the guy in jail again? (^_^?_

Germany: _China wants his people to like his government, and that guy wanted people not to like the government._

Italy: _Oh. ;n; That's too bad. I think everyone should just get along! :)_

Germany: _An admirable philosophy_

Italy: _Isn't it so? X3_

Germany: _I'll keep it in mind while talking to China's people later._

Liechtenst(Name shortened for conservation of space): _Bruder?_

Switzerland: _Yes? Are you out of lemonade? Would you like me to bring some more back for us on the way home?_

Liechtenst: _No, I'm all right. Thank you, though. I was just asking what you thought about Mr. Jia._

Switzerland: _I have no position on anything. Except that I want to buy some lemonade for dinner._

Liechtenst: _Danke, Bruder! :)_

Canada: _Papa?_

France: _Yes, mon cher?_

Canada: _So about Mr. Hu Jia... what is everyone saying about it? Isn't China over there right now?_

France: _We haven't released much yet. We want these talks to go well so that China will be able to help us out with our debt._

Canada: _I want to keep up with everything. Please make sure to update me, okay?_

France: _Will do, mon cher._

* * *

><p>England had decided to stay silent and let China speak as he would. It was odd. China was never as quiet about what he did as Russia had been during Communism.<p>

They had decided to take a stroll around London and had wandered about forty-five minutes before China decided to speak.

"You know I think of my people as my children, no matter what kind of parent I decide to be, right?"

"Yes," England allowed. "Nothing is black and white."

China stared at him, penetratingly, his four thousand years of deep knowledge piercing into England's green orbs. "Do you think you've ever had bad luck with children?"

England looked out at the city that had once been the center of the world's greatest empire. One that had crumbled- it was still a great nation, but those days would never return. It had been partially his own fault. He believed that he and China could relate on some level.

"Yes. Yes, I believe I have."

* * *

><p>I'm out shopping and stealing Starbucks's wifi while writing this. Sorry if it's rushed. Please review! :D<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

Tough choice on today's article. The Journal Report is all about Germany. The header was "Is Germany Turning Into the Strong, Silent Type?" I couldn't stop laughing- it was like a gossip magazine where the answer is, "Well, duh!"

Anyway, I chose "Joel vs. the Volcano" by Joel Stein, the Awesome Column for TIME magazine's July 4th, 2011 edition.

Someday, maybe I'll own something cooler than a cute widdle netbook. For now, I don't.

* * *

><p>The Nordics were meeting as usual over at Sweden's place, chatting over bread and jam.<p>

Except for one.

Iceland was at the table, but he was Facebooking away on his laptop.

"Icy," Finland called eventually, leaning over to try and see the screen. "What are you up to?"

"Ekkert," he replied, turning the laptop away from the Fin.

"Oooh, this doesn't sound like 'nothing' to me!" Denmark raced to catch a peek.

"You're not doing naughty things with girls, are you?" Norway asked, for once more worried than stoic.

"NO!" Iceland's face and ears were red. "Stop torturing me, guys! I'm just looking at what people suggest for my constitution! There!"

"Don't you already have one?" Sweden mumbled gruffly.

"Yes. Yes, I do." Iceland's face was returning to normal. "But it's so corrupt that I felt like we should change it. I'm letting everyone have a say on Facebook."

"Oh, that's sweet of you!" Finland was rather proud of the teenager for turning a financial crash into an opportunity to rebuild. "Just be sure that the suggestions are reasonable."

"But seriously, over Facebook?" Denmark was cracking up. "I bet America's written 'DOOD LETS STOP LOS VOLCANAMOES FRM MAKING PLANES GO BOOM' on your Wall."

"Basically, but he Google Translated it to Hungarian. I think he clicked the one above Icelandic by accident."

"So what did you tell him?"

"That Texas's prescription must be going bad."

"So what have the suggestions been saying?" Finland asked. He was trying to be upbeat, a hint Denmark seemed not to be taking.

Iceland patted his puffin absentmindedly while speaking. "So far we have stuff like privacy, letting sources of journalists stay anonymous, kids' rights, and stuff."

"How about pet puffins for all?" Denmark trolled (and subsequently got glared at).

"I'm fine with my own, thanks," retorted the island nation, companion squawking in agreement.

Norway was still a little worried (but his face had also returned to full blankness). _Is he mature enough to do this right? I should have faith in my little brother, but if one thing doesn't work . . ._

Sweden was thinking more or less the same thing, without the "little brother" part.

Finland was a little more optimistic about Iceland's development, figuring that, with encouragement instead of opposition, Iceland would make less rash/spiteful decisions.

Iceland was freaking out about whether or not they'd freak out at _him, _though he'd never admit it.

Denmark really, _really _wanted some more beer.

Awkward glances bounced about the room until Norway spoke. "Little Brother, please let us talk for a bit."

Iceland stood up, ready to grab his laptop.

"Can we look at it, Icy?" Finland requested, knowing he wouldn't do it for anyone else.

Iceland complied, turning to leave.

"See ya, kid!" Denmark called, smirking.

"You go too," Sweden said.

"B- but why? What did I do?"

"You'll make it worse," Norway replied. "Go get a beer."

"If Norge insists~"

The three mature ones began their conference.

"Does he know what he's doing?" Norway asked.

Sweden nodded in agreement.

"If that's our only concern, let's check the research he's been doing," Finland suggested, sitting in from of the laptop. The other two gathered behind him.

It took a second to find the "History" tab when everything was labeled in Icelandic (which Finland had to admit he wasn't as proficient as he'd like to be in), but eventually he was able to open it.

"Wikipedia," Norway noted cautiously.

It was true. There had to be a thousand Wikipedia pages listed. Most of them had to do with economies, political philosophy, and law.

"He hasn't been wasting his time," Finland pointed out.

"Check some," said Sweden, opening one. He scrolled down to the bottom, where the sources were.

The sources were all red.

They chose random pages and saw that Iceland had indeed read all of the sources for almost every page he'd visited.

"That's good research," Norway said.

"He's been practicing foreign language at the same time," Sweden noticed.

"You're right! Most of those links weren't even in Icelandic!" Finland realized. "I really think we shouldn't worry. Either way this turns out, he'll be learning from his experience, and he always has us for advice."

Sweden grunted in a son-I-am-not-disappoint kind of way.

"Norway," the so-called wife said, "He's your brother. Do you think we should let him continue with his work?"

Norway simply straightened his back and walked to the door.

When he opened it, Iceland stared back at him. His face was blank, but Norway saw earnest in his eyes. He knew he had that look to him too, sometimes. It was one of the things that made them brothers.

"Little Brother."

The stare hardened.

"Good luck."

* * *

><p>Hope you liked it! I cracked up when I saw Icy using Facebook of all things. He's such a teen. Gotta love him. *hugs*<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

NOTES: PCOrigami brought up a very good question. In Chapter 7, I mention the G7, not the G8. The G6 was formed in 1975; it turned into the G7 in '76 when they remembered that Canada existed. Russia didn't join until 1997. Our friend up north decided not to join the recent talks- probably because he doesn't really want to get involved in Greece/Libya, which was most likely what they were talking about. Most of what we've been hearing from Russia lately is "Cool for you guys but imma sit tight."

Speaking of whom...

Today's story is "Russia Convicts Former Spy Official For Exposing Agents in U.S. Ring" by Gregory L. White seen in the Wall Street Journal on June 28th, 2011.

I own nothing. I'm also not a spy.

* * *

><p><em>"We caught some of your-"<em>

_"Same."_

_"..."_

_"Well, this is certainly awkward, da?"_

_"Dude, this is huge. I don't really hate you anymore, but this is . . ."_

_"I think we are in agreement, then, da?"_

_"So you just wanna not even . . ."_

_"Not even what, America?"_

_"Not even get mad, cause that would just be stupid. I mean, we both sent the spies. Let's just trade them off and try to forget this ever happened."_

_"I think you've grown up a bit, da? You've made a good suggestion. Let's do so."_

_"Friday, then? At your place?"_

_"See you then."_

* * *

><p>That was a year ago. The spies were back in their home countries.<p>

But one little boy wasn't planning on cooperating.

"Mr. Alexander Potayev, da?" he murmured, dragging out his words. _Kolkolkol._

"Did you say something, Brother?" Ukraine asked, looking up from the TV that was playing the Women's World Cup.

"Did he say he was going to marry me?" Belarus shot up from the couch next to her sister, suddenly not very focused on soccer.

"No, I didn't!" Russia nearly shrieked, blood pressure rising too rapidly for comfort. "I said 'Mr. Alexander Potayev'!"

"Potayev . . . Potayev . . . where have I heard that name before?" the eldest sister mused.

"He was the double agent that revealed my spies last year. They should be sentencing him in court right now."

Belarus, meanwhile, sank back into the couch, muttering to herself.

"Wait a minute," Ukraine remembered, "Didn't he run off to America's place?"

Russia sighed. "A tiring child, but he will be punished eventually. I've been waiting for this ruling alone for a few months."

"Big Brother," Belarus said, "Now that you have less on your mind, do you think-"

"No."

"Pleeeease?"

"Bela, honey, he can't marry you right now," Ukraine informed her, stroking her hair. "You should pay attention to other people."

"Don't wanna," she pouted into Ukraine's lap. "Big Brother."

Russia sighed again. "Belarus, people can run away from their wives anyway."

Ukraine shot him a _don't-make-this-worse _look, but too late. Belarus's catlike eyes were trained on his, the rest of her face hidden in Ukraine's skirt. "Really?"

"Da. Take, for example, Mr. Poteyev. He fled to America- through both of your houses, by the way- with nothing but a text to his wife."

Belarus's eyebrows furrowed. "She's going to America, too."

"What?" Russia checked his e-mail furiously, finding that it was indeed true. Oh, God, what a backfire . . .!

"That's the kind of wife I'd be." Belarus sounded suspiciously like she was summoning a demon. "No matter where you flee . . . I will follow you . . ."

"Gakjsldkfj;alkj;ekbngaaaaargh" was the incomprehensible reply.

"You two," Ukraine lamented hopelessly.

"Oh." Russia read his text. _25 years in prison for high treason and desertion. _"He got his sentence. I'm satisfied, I suppose. He only set back my intelligence agency by a hundred years, da?"

"You'll rebuild," said Ukraine. "Your other spies did well. Like Anna Chapman."

"He likes her better than me," Belarus muttered into her sister's skirt.

"Bela, of course he likes you better. You just tire him out when you talk about marrying him."

There was no reply from the pale blonde.

"Bela?" Ukraine patted her shoulder.

"She's asleep," Russia noticed, relieved. "That was odd."

"I think she pulled an all-nighter yesterday. She's troubled."

The both watched her sleeping face. She was scowling slightly even then. Russia felt a little pang of concern for her. (Was she always this pale?)

Ukraine looked back up to the soccer game, smiling nostalgically. "I wish it was this quiet more often. Do you mind if I come over to watch some more soccer tomorrow?"

"Not at all, Big Sister. Is that game still on?"

"It's got half an hour left."

"Mind if I watch it with you, then? I don't have anything else to do today."

"Of course."

Russia snuggled down on the couch next to his sisters. This is what really matters, he thought. Sometimes I have to do what I have to, but I have a right to times like these as well.

He was so peaceful that he didn't even mind when Belarus murmured, "Big Brother, how I have awaited our wedding day~" in her sleep.

* * *

><p>This took me a while 'cause I was watching the US vs. North Korea soccer game. I felt really bad for the DPRK team. I've heard (and don't doubt) that they're tortured if they lose. The goalkeeper who covered her face after she gave up a goal... well. I don't think all of that was trying to get a penalty called, that's for sure.<p> 


	16. Chapter 16

-Yawns- I woke up really late this morning. But it's amazing because yesterday it POURED. My area usually doesn't even see a single cloud June through September. It's still cloudy out! Me gusta mucho!

Today's article is "Greece Erupts Over Austerity" by Alkman Granitsas seen in the Wall Street Journal on June 29th, 2011.

* * *

><p>He'd been fighting earlier. Once he got a little less angry, he'd been on strike. And then they'd decided to have the austerity measures. Rage officially rekindled.<p>

It wasn't that he needed to have fifty different maids and butlers serving him day and night. He just didn't want to downgrade his quality of living. His people were bracing for the worst; he felt terrible for them.

Greece slipped on a gas mask and sturdy jeans. He grabbed a cat about to make its way inside his backpack before hoisting the heavy bag over his shoulders.

Greece took one last look around the house. _Hope I see you soon. _He was surprised about how sleepy he wasn't; his people must have been truly restless. (The caffeine pills probably helped a little, but he'd fallen asleep on three mugs of strong coffee before.)

Stepping out of his fairly quiet house was a surreal experience. Athens was in chaos. People screaming, fires, gas, police clashing with angry youth . . .

He looked back towards his house. _How didn't I hear that?_

Oh well. He switched his gas mask on, feeling for extra batteries in his pocket. His watch told him that the vote would be starting. Time for some fun.

He could only hope his bosses would take the hint.

He passed by a school on the way to the main action. By the looks of it, it was an elementary school. He smiled to himself, remembering the days when heavy rain would prevent his teachers from coming to his and his mother's house. He wondered if the kids were happy to be out of school today, or if they were confused and afraid.

Syntagma Square was worse off than he'd seen in in ages. Basically anything that one could throw at policemen had been uprooted. Bricks, signs, even plastic lawn chairs were strewn about. People of all ages were there. Bombs exploded everywhere; fires burned every ten meters or so. He felt a little pang to see the umbrellas and trash cans at the cafe he frequented burning. He knew the owners so well. _I hope they're doing okay._

There were only about twenty thousand people out, even though the matter was huge. Greece knew that a lot of people were too scared to go out. They didn't want to lose what jobs they already had.

He passed the McDonald's that had once been another popular cafe for travelers. The whole place was trashed, which actually satisfied him a little. He still wished they hadn't bought out the famous cafe. Stupid America.

Suddenly, a van with cameras on top sped by next to him. Behind it, some anarchists chased it, shouting. He wondered what they were doing until he saw the fire on the opposite side spreading. The communications van continued down the street, burning, until it swerved off. Greece didn't really want to watch what happened next.

He did wait for the anarchists to come back, though, grabbing lighters from his backpack and drinking some of the water in the bottle he'd brought. They were a mob- a loose, wild mob- and were just as enraged and ready for action as he was.

He didn't remember much as the raw energy of his people overtook him. For him, it was quieter than he thought it would be. It was like a movie or something. What he did know: he was handed a baseball bat, he helped smash windows in front of luxury hotels, he was confronted by a police officer, and that he won. Somewhere along the line he must have been caught in an opposing crowd, moving away from the square for some reason. And then he was probably knocked out from behind, because he was fairly certain he was lying down and-

Lying down? He realized his head was in the middle of the road. He scrambled up to the sidewalk, not really wanting to be hit by a speeding, burning van.

He took a minute for his breathing to slow down, gathering his mental bearings. His watch told him that it was several hours later than he'd thought it may have been. Greece knew that he should get his head checked out as soon as possible, because a blow enough to knock him out meant that (unlike what movies would lead one to believe) he probably had a severe concussion. _It sure feels like I have a sever concussion. _

Now just to find out where he was, and-

The Parthenon?

Greece had no idea how he'd ended up at the Parthenon, but he was fairly certain that it was no accident. His mother must be so ashamed of him. He needed some of Athena's- no, his _mother's- _wisdom.

He was already on the ground, so he brought himself into a proper kneeling position.

"Mother," he whispered. "μητέρα."

Of course there was no answer. He was only praying anyway.

"μητέρα, please forgive me. I have acted foolishly. Please, please forgive me."

No answer, or so he thought.

He sensed movement at his side; a comforting touch warmed his shoulder. It felt so much like his mother. He longed for her warmth once more. She was so strong . . . he just wanted to feel some of that glory so she would be proud of him . . .

"Be strong, my son. I'll always be very, very proud of you. I forgive you."

He could have sworn it was his mother's voice, but he didn't have time to think much about it. He was so tired. His head pounded. The ground looked so nice. It accepted him so readily- he could finally _sleep-_

Later, as Athens calmed down, Greece woke up in a hospital bed that would never be quite as comforting as hearing his mother once more.

* * *

><p>As I was writing the last part, CNN reported that Athens had calmed down considerably, which worked out rather conveniently for the story. XD By the way, Canada vs. France soccer game tomorrow! Lookin' forward to that!<p> 


	17. Chapter 17

Guten Morgen! Looks like Greece agreed to a five-year plan, so I'm pulling for them. Ominous enough, Portugal is worse off than people expected, though. (shudder) Shiva491, thanks for sending me that snippet from the BBC- apparently, the North Korean soccer team had been struck by lightning before their game! Poor things.

Today's article is "U.S. Environmentalists Back EU Emission Plan" by Daniel Michaels seen in the Wall Street Journal on June 30th, 2011.

Things I own: ...

* * *

><p>Thankful to have Greece secured, and stock markets doing better, the EU-plus-a-few were over in Oslo, Norway's capital, talking about reducing emissions from airplanes. It was mostly the EU giving a debrief to their plus-a-few; they'd reached their decision already.<p>

Thanks to one of those plus-a-few, it wasn't going just as planned.

"I still think you guys are stupid," America (who else?) objected for the fiftieth time. "You can't tell my people what to do on _mi lando_."

This objection was met with heavy mental sighs and repeated explanations form a few countries, as well as a correction in basic Spanish by Spain.

This idiot was too un-awesome and boring for Prussia.

"Hey, _Italien_. No, not you, the northern one. Kesesese!"

"Hmmm?" Italy stretched a little, smiling sleepily.

"Thanks for helping me set up yesterday. You're 'like, totally freaking awesome,' as Poland would say. And prolly will once he sees the awesomeness you bestowed to the dining room."

Italy brightened up. "Oh, it was no problem! I love parties!"

"But seriously, you're awesome at it," Prussia reached down a row to pat his awesome head, because he was just too friggin' _cute._

"Aww, thanks, Prussia! If your row wasn't so far above mine I'd pat your head too."

"No need. My awesomeness acknowledges-"

_"Bruder, _shut up!" Germany, writing notes with one hand, whacked Prussia (how _dare _he?) with the other. _"Italien, _you know better than to chat idly during a meeting."

Next to Italy, Japan was muttering to himself. "He writes equations with one hand . . . and smacks his brother with the other. He wir take a chip . . . and _eat it."_

"What?" Screw stupid _Bruder_ and his shut-up-cause-I'm-being-unawesome-ness. Kesesese.

"It must be the painkillers speaking. Prease ignore me."

The actual meeting, meanwhile, continued.

China spoke up. "Actually, I agree with America, aru. I'd like to hold my own regulations."

"As do I," Russia added. "I think charging me for flying in my own airspace is a little absurd, da? It sounds like fundraising to me."

"Besides, it's against _international law," _America said.

"Oh really," England replied.

"Yes. Really."

"That can't really be what you're on about."

"Actually, it is. So you can run and tell _that, _homeboy."

"You know, _Amérique, _your environmental groups have been agreeing with us," France pointed out.

"Which would be fine and dandy, except that's not what my _bosses _think. I mean, don't get me wrong, we're all for not screwing over the world and stuff. We just don't like that way."

_"Und, _pray tell, what plan _would _you like?" _Bruder _apparently felt like speaking up.

_So much for shutting up. Being a hypocrite is _so _not awesome._

"." America thought about it for a minute. "Well, my bosses and I haven't really spoken about it much yet, but I was thinking something about a hero-"

"Dude, if you're going to come up with something ridiculous, can't you make it awesome?" Prussia blurted out, drawing nearly every country's gaze to him.

_Ah, Scheiße. I was supposed to leave it to Bruder to speak today, wasn't I._

_"Bruder, _shut _up . . ." _Germany tried, but it was too late.

"What?" America looked almost hurt. "What the hell is wrong with a hero? They're totally kickass and-"

"Seriously, it's just so un-awesome. Out of aliens, time travelers, psychics- and as a friggin' awesome Prussian, it pains me to say this- Nazi zombies, you choose men in tights. Kesesese!"

That got him to shut up for a moment.

"The awesome me rests his awesome case. Kesesese," Prussia added, swinging his feet onto the table (to show America exactly _how _to refuge in audacity) and folding his arms.

"Oh, my God. You got him to shut up." England's mouth, which had just about hit the floor by began to clap.

Sooner or later, the entire room was applauding.

For him.

_This _was friggin' awesome.

Once the applause stopped, Norway stood up and began to speak. "We've also checked this plan over for following international protocol. It conforms, and-"

The star-spangled nation shot one last "WTF" look at Prussia before turning to Hairclips. "Yeah, yeah, but . . ."

* * *

><p>After the meeting, Prussia decided that the occasion deserved celebration. "Guys! Wouldn't it be awesome if we hit this bar Hairclips told me about before we go?"<p>

Germany looked conflicted (read: maybe or maybe not awesome). "I don't know. I wouldn't say no if I was a little more familiar with Oslo."

"Oh, come on. We don't really have any more unawesomeness going on until next week. Pleeeeeeeeeeease?"

"I think it'd be fun!" Italy cheered. "And Romano said he'd never get drunk around Germany again so he could get us home safe."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Germany asked.

"He's over with Spain right now, so let me go ask him."

Prussia leaned against the hall, listening to the chatter of not-quite-as-awesome-as-him countries for a moment. "Hey, _Bruder."_

"Yes?"

"You gotta admit I was awesome today. Kesesese!"

Germany smiled. "Yes. Yes, that I will admit."

* * *

><p>I was writing about soccer up there and I <em>still <em>forgot about the Canada vs. France soccer match until halftime! Derp. Poor Canada.

Well, how'd you like it? I'm sure Prussia is very pleased with himself (and probably drunker than drunk) so I'm sure a review just for him would make his day awesome.


	18. Chapter 18

Today seems to be a really, really good day in the world. Nothing's going on that's immediate, corn prices are dropping, Monaco's prince is getting married, I don't have to do my AP work...

The story today: "Poland takes over EU presidency for six months" with no author given, published July 1st, 2011 and seen at www(dot)bbc(dot)co(dot)uk/news/world-europe-13985064 on my Acer netbook. (May as well credit them too.)

I own nothing. Except my netbook, cause I did buy it myself.

* * *

><p>Germany felt his phone buzz four times and then stop. He nodded to Austria next to him, who nodded to Prussia, who nodded to Hungary, who nodded to Italy, who nodded to Romano, who nodded to Spain, who grabbed Belgium's shoulder in excitement, who nearly toppled over into the wall with a surprised squeak.<p>

"SHHHHH!" everyone scolded simultaneously.

"Liet, LIET! Are we like, almost there? The suspense is like totally killing me!"

"Yes, yes, we're getting close," Lithuania replied. "Hang on. I've got you- there we go."

"OMG YOU STOPPED."

"I certainly did. I have to open the door."

"OMG WE'RE HERE."

"It's possible."

Austria handed Germany a can of pink silly-string stuff.

The door opened. Lithuania led a blindfolded Poland inside with the biggest grin on his face. Germany and the others stealthily surrounded the valley-boy nation while Lithuania tore off his coat to reveal pink clothes.

Belgium did the honor of ripping off the blindfold.

"CONGRATULTIONS, POLAND!" everyone shouted at the top of their lungs (even Germany), and went insane with the silly string.

"OMIGAWD IT'S LIKE SO PINK!" was all Poland could yell as ten gallons of silly string attacked him. (It was quite true, though- Prussia and Italy had pinkified the entire foyer and dining room area more effectively than if they'd taken paint to the whole room. Plus everyone, including Germany, was head-to-toe in pink. He was dreading the nightmares about pink he'd have after today.)

Finally, Poland was thoroughly pinkified. He had to clear a glob of the string form his mouth in order to say, "This is totally awesome! Thanks, you guys!"

"So guess what time it is?" Hungary quizzed, holding something behind her back. "Sorry we couldn't make it pink."

"Wait, like, what was it like last time? Not pink? Umm . . ."

Hungary revealed the rolled-up E.U. flag and a few thumbtacks. "This!"

Poland's eyes widened. "Oh, I like totally friggin' get it now!"

Together, they unrolled the rest of the flag and set it on the wall with a high-five.

"And then this!" Hungary unpinned the blue presidency pin from her pink shirt. Clearning yet more silly string off of Poland, she attached it to his. "There we are! Congrats, Po~"

"Like, thank you soooo much!" he glomped the now-former EU Council President, peace-signing for Lithuania's cameraphone.

Italy and Romano, meanwhile, finished hooking up the (pink) stereo in the dining hall that led out of the foyer towards the dining room.

Romano glared at the CD. "Veneziano, this stupid thing isn't coming out of the case! Dammit!"

"Romano, be gentle with it. See?" Italy popped it out easily, sliding it into the stereo gently. InCulto's "Eastern European Funk" started playing.

Austria passed them on the way to the kitchen. Italy could have sworn his hand was tapping to the beat.

Just before he left, Austria turned around. "Which way is the kitchen again?"

"I'll go with you!" Spain called. "Boss Spain knows this house head to toe!"

"So which way is it?" Austria asked.

"Umm . . ." He turned to Italy. "Why don't you ask him?"

"Just keep going! It's the door right in front of you!"

Belgium rushed in ahead of the others. "Almost forgot!" She grabbed little pony place markers out of her purse and set them at each plate.

"Wooow! Good thinking, Belgium!" Italy cheered. He admired the little ponies. They were handmade and porcelain; each one had a different design. They all had a pink bow wrapped around the neck.

"Those are cool," Romano allowed, which was a huge compliment coming from him.

"Aww, thank you, Romano~" the kitty-faced blonde cooed, glomping him.

"You're too much like Spain! CHIGIIII!"

"Romano, don't run away~"

Italy started for the kitchen when he saw Germany, Poland, Hungary, and Lithuania filing into the dining hall. "Romano, help me get the pasta! Romano, don't hide! Romanooo . . ."

"Aaah, that was, like, totally the deeeelish-est pasta ever, you guys!" Poland proclaimed. "Thanks, Italy Bros.!"

"It certainly was. The cake should be ready now," Austria decided, checking his watch. "Spain, could I get your help, please?"

_"¡Por supuesto!" _Spain said.

"I brought chocolate. I'll go with you." Belgium got up from the table.

Romano and Prussia started clearing the dishes.

"Thanks for letting us use your house, Germany, Prussia." Lithuania had been smiling more than Germany had seen him in years. "This was a great idea."

"You kidding? This is the awesomest thing anyone's ever done for me!" Poland exclaimed.

"The awesome me would bow right now if that didn't mean dropping fifty billion pink china plates," Prussia said. "Anything for a fellow former Eastern Bloc-er."

"You better enjoy it now," Hungary warned teasingly. "Managing these folks for the next six months'll be a headache, let me tell ya!"

"But you did really well! So I think Poland'll do fine!" Italy reassured.

"Aww, thank you, hon." She patted the ginger's head.

"But seriously, I'm friggin' stoked!" Poland clenched his fists with a determined grin. "This is my chance to prove myself!"

"Remember, Belgium and Hungary are there to help you," Germany added. "They're not completely free of responsibility yet."

"Nyeeeh!" Prussia jeered from the kitchen.

"No-life!" Hungary called back.

Austria and Spain were first back with the cake. It was quite magnificent, Germany thought. It had three very, _very _pink tiers. And, having escorted Austria himself to the groceery store, he knew exactly what was in it. _Swiss chocolate. _He wiped a little drool from the corner of his mouth before anyone could notice. (That would have been embarrassing.)

Belgium was right behind them with mouthwatering (Germany wiped at his mouth again) confections. She must have spent hours designing them all- they looked almost too good to eat. Germany was a serious man with a serious taste in chocolate. By his inspections, this was above and beyond.

"I see you looking at the chocolate, Germany," Italy teased.

"Eat up! I made tons!" she invited.

"Will do," Germany promised, fork hovering over the slice of cake passed to him.

* * *

><p>"Poland, before you and Lithuania get going, I have something else for you," Hungary spoke up. Italy wondered what. She'd only brought a small purse to Germany's.<p>

Italy, Big Brother, Austria, and Belgium had packed up the leftovers in a few big boxes (probably enough to feed Poland for a month) and wrapped it up with the EU flag. He'd also gotten to take home the horse decorations, the CD, and the nice plates.

Now they were standing outside Germany's driveway, bathed by the porch lights.

"I know you've missed a certain type of wine for a few years-"

"Omigawd, I totally thought they closed down!"

"Amazing how that economy of yours has been doing lately. 3.5% growth rate, huh?"

"They _reopened?"_

"Pretty much. I shipped a cask to your place the other day, so it should be there by now."

Poland looked like he couldn't get any happier. That's the best way to be, Italy thought! "OMG, I totally forgot! I was, like, going to bring it to you today and then Liet totally kidnapped me here. Liet, could you, like, grab the duffel I had earlier?"

Lithuania opened the trunk of the car he'd brought Poland in, tossing him a blue bag. Poland took a long, wrapped package out. "Open it!"

She complied, face lighting up as a very, very sharp saber revealed itself. She drew it carefully, taking a few practice swings in Prussia's general direction.

"Crazy lady with a knife," he muttered.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, barely remembering to sheath it before glomping the giver. "Seriously, congratulations for being chosen. Eastern Europe power!"

"Congrats for finishing," he replied. "Thanks to all you guys for setting this up today!"

"You're welcome! It was really fun!" Italy cheered. "Enjoy your food! Good luck!"

"Remember the exact temperature at which to store the cake," Austria instructed, adjusting his glasses. "I trust you'll do well in the coming months."

"Romano and I wish you luck!" said Spain.

"Oi, speak for yourself! But yeah, what he said."

"Me too!" Belgium shouted.

"I won't wake the neighbors, but I'd like to wish you luck," Germany added.

"IGNORE BRUDER, I'M YELLING! GOOD LUCK!" Prussia yelled.

"Shut up! Do you _want _Switzerland to shoot us?"

"Ggggggh!" Poland was grinning- eyes closed, fists pumping. He punched the air with a yell. "Seriously, this is gnarly! I'm super-pumped! You guys, like, totally made this fifty times more awesome for me! See you!"

And with that and a few goodbyes, they were off.

* * *

><p>Lithuania took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at Poland, who was still smiling. "You know, if you get sleepy, I have a pillow in the back."<p>

Poland stared at him increduously. "You seriously think I'm tired right now?"

"It was a joke." Lithuania chuckled. "I know how you must feel. 2011 is proving to be a really big year for you and Hungary."

"You kidding me? Eastern Europe dominating, like, _everything _this soon after the Curtain got pulled? I'm actually doing _well _right now. I haven't felt sick in, like, forever."

"That's definitely progress. And I can't wait to see what will become of this year's European Partnership meetings."

"Mhm," Poland agreed. "Liet, I don't know if I'll be able to sleep at all for the next week! It's like the night before Christmas!"

"Well, try to sleep. You've got a lot ahead of you," the brunette replied. "Would you be able to sleep if I stayed at your house tonight?"

"Would you?"

Lithuania was a little surprised to see how earnest Poland was. He really was like a kid before Christmas. "As long as we don't stay up all night talking. How's that?"

"Thanks, Liet!"

* * *

><p>I'm so friggin' happy for those two Eastern Europeans. Being a Polish Hungary cosplayer, of course I would XD Anyway, I'll try to get back to my lovely reviewers tonight. I've been insanely busy. I feel bad that I can't read anything of yours right now! :(<p> 


	19. Chapter 19

So on a nerdiness scale of 1-10, where does "Writing fanfiction on the train to Japanese class" put me?

. . .

Oh. I . . . understand . . .

Today's story is "Russia to Deploy Troops to Defend Interests in Arctic" by Alan Cullision seen in the Wall Street Journal on July 2nd, 2011.

I own nothing, not even the wifi I'm stealing from Starbucks (again). Except my nerdiness.

* * *

><p>"Of course, we'll be talking over the details for a while longer," his defense minster reassured. "Have a good meeting today."<p>

"Yes, I will try. We will have much to discuss, da?" On that note, Russia hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" Ukraine asked, pouring water into the samovar.

"My defense minister. I may start stationing troops in the Arctic Ocean."

Ukraine looked like she was about to cry. "You're not going to fight anyone, are you?"

Russia hadn't meant to do that! "Big Sister! Don't cry. It's more symbolism than anything."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Why can you promise _her _something like that," Belarus hissed, "but you can't promise to marry _me?"_

"WHEN DID YOU WAKE UP?"

"Bela, maybe you'll be happier if you're more awake," Ukraine reasoned. "I'm heating some water. Tea or coffee?"

"Whatever Big Brother's having."

_"Whichever," _the eldest corrected, and turned to Russia. "Which one?"

"I think I'll have coffee, please."

They sat silent for a minute.

Finally, Ukraine spoke again. "So why are you stationing troops in the Arctic?"

"Children, children."

"Children such as . . ."

"Mostly Canada and Denmark."

"Canada?" Ukraine must have been a little surprised to hear her friend named. "I don't remember him saying anything."

_Maybe I'm making her worry too much. _"Big Sister, I'm not fighting them, like I said. They're just getting a little ambitious, and I want to make sure they don't overrun me. Really, I've been talking about this for a while."

"Big Brother is building a port on the Yamal Peninsula," Belarus added. "Are you proud of me for reading your newspapers?"

"That's a little creepy, da?" was the reply he gave her.

"Oh, give her credit. It gives her something to do that doesn't involve scaring you."

Russia remembered something. "If this'll make you feel better, Big Sister, Sweden, Finland, and Norway have troops up there, too. I'm just catching up."

She sighed and adjusted his scarf the way a wife would her husband's tie (which irked a certain sibling to no end). "Then have a good meeting. We might go before you get back, so goodbye if we do."

"Ukraine doesn't mean it, Big Brother. I'll wait for you here . . . _always . . ."_

"BELARUS, GO HOME!"

* * *

><p>As Russia waved goodbye and hopped into the taxi, Belarus started to get up from the table to follow him.<p>

Ukraine, however, wasn't going to have that. "Belarus, you can't go with him. Your tea still needs to steep."

"Why don't you want Big Brother and I to get married?"

"Big Brother and _me," _she corrected again. "And sit down properly."

"But why?" Belarus demanded.

Ukraine felt like she was speaking to a three-year-old. "Because, Bela, a big girl like you has so many other things she should be focusing on."

Russia was five minutes early to the meeting in Greenland. America and Canada still weren't there, but the five Nordics were. What a shame. He'd kind of wanted to sit on Canada at the Arctic Council meeting. It was so funny when no one else noticed him sputtering around!

He wondered why Iceland was checking his laptop so much. He didn't realize he was smile-staring at the teenager until Finland "smiled" back and placed a hand on Iceland's shoulder inconspicuously.

Three minutes to go until the meeting. Russia had not yet said a word. America and Canada had not yet arrived. Sweden and Norway had not yet stopped staring out the window. Denmark had not yet stopped sipping beer.

Two minutes.

One minute.

Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . .

(Nothing happened for another three minutes.)

(Until the door burst open, that is.)

"ALL RIGHT! THE HERO IS RIGHT ON TIME!" Oh, dear. America wasn't being very serious today.

"America, the meeting started a few minutes ago, I'm telling you!" There was Canada, though some people probably hadn't noticed him.

"So you mean waiting right outside the meeting room for all that time was a waste?"

"Yes, America. Yes it was."

"Oh."

Russia was getting a little impatient. "Maybe we should start the meeting before we lose any more time."

Everyone stared at him.

"Da?"

"Umm, yes," Finland agreed hastily. "So I believe we left off last time by talking about coordinating our search-and-rescue missions . . ."

* * *

><p>Russia was a little disappointed that no one wanted to talk about him during the meeting. It was like they were avoiding him. That wouldn't do.<p>

Oh, well. It _had _been kind of fun to be the elephant in the room the whole time!

* * *

><p>Oh, Russia, you and smiling creepily. I felt kind of sorry for Iceland while writing that part. But it's okey! (I'm American) Finland the Badass is here to save the day! (Seriously, look at the stats for the Winter War. Just LOOK.)<p>

Also, I was corrected by The Fairy Cake! It _is _Eastern Bloc, not Eastern Block. I _knew _I had something wrong there! I was thinking of spelling it with an H at the end for some reason, too. Thanks so much for catching that. I'll go ahead and fix my stupidity. XD


	20. Chapter 20

I may have lost all my AP Bio work, which took me ALL MONTH TO DO, and I'm driving to SoCal at the moment, and school starts August 1st, and I'm going to be at a college prep camp for most of that time, and... *incomprehensible blubbering* I'm an A student, and this is a nightmare...

I'm just WAITING for my netbook to crash on me... 'cause that's what it's been doing...

Today's story is "The Pessimism Index" by Mark J. Penn seen in the July 11th TIME magazine on July 3rd.

I don't anything, but I DO plan on buying the Hetalia shirt they sell at Hot Topic!

* * *

><p>America's birthday was tomorrow. He was planning on taking a drive to some teensy tiny town in one of the Mississippi River states and going to a festival, seeing some fireworks, the whole deal. England and Canada were flying into New York today to go with him.<p>

He loved his birthday. It was the one time a year England didn't bug him about shoveling down hot dogs, hamburgers, and cake to his heart's content. Sometimes Iggy even ate a hamburger or two along with a (diet) soda. Canada always took the opportunity to pig out, of course. It was gonna be awesome this year!

He glanced over at the presents he'd gotten. America had unwrapped everyone's except Japan's, which he still had to take pictures of. Dude had 1337 wrapping skillz.

America still had a few hours before Canada's flight got in and several more till England's. He flopped down on the couch. _Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, I don't wanna wait. Maybe I should rebook Canada's flight. _

He grabbed a random magazine from the coffee table and started flipping through it. It was probably the Fourth of July edition, so it had lots of things like red-white-and-blue Jelllo recipes and flag crafts. He smiled. Maybe someone on his roadtrip of awesome would do a recipe from this. (The Star-Spangled Sundae looked pretty good.)

It had a lot of "fun" summer activities, like book recommendations (dude, wasn't summer all about getting _away _from this stuff?) and personality quizzes.

Personality quizzes.

"How 'United' is Your 'State'?" was the title of one.

"I'm the friggin' United States of _America_," he informed it. "It's in the name."

"The summer is an excellent time to reevaluate your character! Refresh your personality these few months before heading back to serious business this fall with this quiz about how sure of yourself you are. _[We weren't sure whether or not we should publish this, because most of our staff still can't be consoled about their results. But here you go. -Ed.]"_

America cracked up. "Okay, that's too good. Quiz, prepare to be DEMOLISHED. Like a BAWSS."

Grabbing a pen from under the couch cushion, he dove in.

_1. Here's a simple first question. Over the years, how have people seen you?"  
>a. Optimistic<br>b. Pessimistic  
>c. Neither<br>d. Depends on my mood_

The answer was obviously A! America remembered one of Canada's birthday cards for him a long time ago that pretty much said that. If it had his brother's seal of approval, it could never go wrong!

_2. How have you been lately?  
>a. Just as optimistic!<br>b. Slightly less optimistic  
>c. Pessimistic<br>d. Very pessimistic_

America unconsciously felt the back of his head for his scar. 9/11 was still there. It ached fairly often. But he knew he needed to keep it. He wasn't sure why. It wasn't to make him feel like a boss. _Just a reminder, I guess. _

And then there was his economy. He sniffled. No matter what the government or anyone else said, 2007 had totally screwed him over, and the recession wasn't over. This cold was like the mother-in-law that wouldn't leave.

_Umm... C?_

_3. How on top of things have you been?  
>a. Very<br>b. Somewhat  
>c. Not very<br>d. Not at all_

Um. Well, he'd been working out and stuff! Even if he wasn't sure if he should be spending so much money on that . . . but whatever. He didn't want to get fat.

And it had sorta paid off. bin Laden was history. He touched 9/11 again. But he was still very, very worried about a huge terrorist attack happening again. Both from his people or someone else's. _Note to self: Tomorrow is a weights day._

Okay, maybe B.

_4. How has your health been lately?  
>a. Ship-shape<br>b. Pretty good  
>c. Not very good<br>d. Poor_

Okay, so maybe his diet wasn't the _healthiest. _But what kind of mutant ate like Japan anyway? And his economy was being mismanaged. But at least China was . . .

_Oh, screw it all. D D D D D._

_5. Do you feel like you need to focus on your relationships with your peers the most, or organizing your own thoughts and feelings?  
>a. Neither<br>b. Mostly with others  
>c. Mostly with myself<br>d. Both_

That was easy. He wanted to fix his economy, first of all, and then helping K-12 education out (though his colleges were pretty boss). Things like that. _C._

_6. Do you feel as if you're leading a good example for children?  
>a. Yes<br>b. Mostly  
>c. Not really<br>d. No_

God, he didn't feel like he was passing this test. America had been wondering lately- will the kids I see today be in a good country when they grew up? Contrary to everyone else's beliefs, he _did _think about these kinds of things (mostly because he loved kids), and he'd even come to a conclusion. _Probably not. _And that just plain sucked. D.

He flipped the page, only to see the results listed. _Huh, that was pretty short. Well, I answered two Cs and two Ds._

_If you answered mostly Cs: Not all hope is lost! You're at an opportune point to change. Write down the things you would like to change about yourself the most, and consult friends, family, or a counselor about it. _

He could totally do that! His bosses were already sorta working on it. Maybe he just needed to remind them a little better.

_If you answered mostly Ds: Here's a pat on the back. Look at the advice for C, except consult a counselor or therapist immediately. Take a vacation to a secluded place and reflect upon yourself. Remind yourself of your positive traits, and improve your negative ones in a positive way. (For example, instead of saying "I'm fat," you should say, "I can become healthy by making good choices every day.") Good luck!_

America sighed. _Note to self: Never read self-deprecatimatimafactoril stuff the day before your birthday. Now I _really _need to reread that birthday card from Canada._

_Speaking of Canada, his flight's getting here in a bit. Well, five hours. I can kill five hours by driving down there and catching a game or something, right?  
><em>

* * *

><p>On the drive up the East Coast towards the Big Apple, America saw his people preparing for his birthday. Even though they couldn't possibly know how much it meant to him, he wanted to thank each and every one of them.<p>

He remembered something someone had told him long ago. _No matter what happens with your government, they'll still love you, you 'll love you. You're a nation, not a country. _Who had told him that? He wanted to give that guy a fifty-year-long supply of Hershey's or something.

So no matter what my bosses do . . . my people will always love me, huh?

Screw that personality quiz; that sounded pretty frikkin' awesome.

* * *

><p>Oh, my country and its insecurities. The stats detailed in the article, are really grim- they compare us to post-WWII Europeans. Check it out when you get a chance. The cover talks about Mexican drug wars affecting the US or something like that *is forgetful*<p>

Ironically enough, even though I eat fast food an estimated three times a year, I'm uploading this from a McDonald's. Because they have wifi and Pokemon toys (I got a Pikachu!). Plus my netbook hasn't crashed! :D Oh happy day. Me gusta mucho.


	21. Chapter 21

Okay, so I'm kinda sorta maybe a little cheating here. I'm writing this the night of 7/3 and I'm going to upload it 7/4 because there's going to be a BIG Independence Day celebration here in LA and I'll be way too busy to write. I might have to start writing these at night, but that's okay since it's always daytime somewhere, right? I'm really sorry.

Today's article is "Japan finds rare earths in Pacific seabed" with no author given seen on the BBC website at www(dot)bbc(dot)co(dot)uk/news/world-asia-pacific-14009910 on July 3rd, 2011 (July 4th in the UK).

I need to become much more fluent in Japanese to even claim owning something.

* * *

><p>Japan watched bubbles float out of his air tank. Normal humans wouldn't be able to survive at 18,000 feet underwater with just a modified swimsuit, much less humans with heavily bandaged shoulders and a minor painkiller high.<p>

He was most definitely not a normal human.

And he had most definitely found the rare earth metals his scientists were talking about.

_Allow me to take a small sample . . ._

Japan tugged on the cable attached to his swimsuit to begin his ascent.

* * *

><p>Finally, he could see light again; he switched off his flashlight. More bubbles floated up to the surface. <em>This is amazing, <em>he thought. _I could potentially break China's monopoly on rare earths._

It was very common knowledge that Japan took his electronics very seriously. It was also common knowledge that he and China were not on very good terms.

Unfortunately, "rare earth metals" also happened to be the power behind electronics such as smartphones. And when in the hands of someone like China . . .

Scene: One year ago. A territorial dispute has arisen between JAPAN and CHINA.

JAPAN and CHINA used BICKER!

CHINA used RESTRAIN SUPPLY! It's super effective!

JAPAN used LOOK ELSEWHERE!

. . . which brought Japan to the present day.

Of course, he knew he shouldn't get his hopes up. He was already a little nervous about the environment. Mining for what he'd found today would probably disrupt animals on the ocean floor.

He just needed his phones, computers, billboards . . .

Japan found himself wishing for his phone, but he was still a good way underwater. It was a little rough of a day at sea, so they had to reel him back up to the boat slowly.

He felt like a puppet on a string. One wrong move by the scientists and he was as dead as a roll of sushi. Well, not dead, but certainly with more serious wounds to fuss over.

_Sigh. _An old man wasn't supposed to be this impatient- could America have finally gotten to him? Gah.

He looked around again. It was unnaturally quiet and peaceful in the waters west of Hawaii. Colorful fish swam all around in huge schools. The vivid coral was something out of a dream. He would close his eyes and meditiate, but he was still a little too nervous about being tugged off by the waters.

「今、大丈夫ですか。」 Finally, the scientists' radios were in range with his. Someone had asked if he was all right.

「はい、いいです。」 Yes, I'm fine.

「見つけたのですか。」 Did you find it?

「はい、見つけました。」 Yes, I found it.

「すばらしいね! じゃ、少々待って下さいね。まだまだ...」 That's great! Well, please wait just a little bit. Not yet...

Ten more seconds and his head broke water. The sudden switch to the world above water was so shocking! He gasped for air like a newborn.

The two scientists helped him onto the boat, handing him a towel and clothes. He handed them the sample and went to go sit down.

The boat wasn't small, but it was nowhere near expansive. Scientific-looking machines took over half of the main area. There was a small restroom, but not a very good one-it was mostly used for changing into swim gear. There was also a very, very comfortable couch.

Shakily, he sat down on it, not really minding that he was getting it all wet.

_Who would have thought keeping up with _China, _of all people, would exhaust this old man the most . . ._

* * *

><p>Okay, so it wasn't totally cheating since I'm writing this part at 8 on 74. And since I wrote the Japanese while half-asleep, correct my idiocy if I made an error . . . heh, those scientists were kinda sorta casual with him. Guess they know each other pretty well after a year.

Happy Fourth of July! Thanks for the reviews/faves/etc., too! :3


	22. Chapter 22

I'm not cheating/half asleep today, so let's hope I can manage something decent XD Progress has been somewhat hampered by my cousins' kitten walking around all over the keyboard and typing letters. But she's cute so I forgive her.

Today's story is "Global warming lull down to China's coal growth" by Richard Black seen on the BBC News website at www(dot)bbc(dot)co(dot)uk/news/science-environment-14002264 on July 5th, 2011.

I can't even take Driver's Ed yet. Me owning something like the BBC or Hetalia is nigh implausible, don'tcha think?

* * *

><p>"Hmm, this is interesting," Hong Kong mused, scrolling down on his new iPad.<p>

"When'd you get that?" Korea asked, putting his PSP down for a second. "And what's interesting?"

"The BBC," Hong Kong said, handing him the iPad. "They said that global warming's been at a plateau."

"That's cool and all, but why are you reading the English edition? Do you think you're _better _than me be being able to speak it _wisout sounding rike sis_? Huh, punk?"

"Because I was too lazy to click the Chinese version."

"Oh." Korea blinked. "That's better. Laziness originated in me, after all."

"Never surprised when you say something like that." China, fresh out of the shower, toweled off his hair. "You're always hanging out here with Hong Kong. Don't you have work to do?"

"Evasive techniques for escaping work originated in Korea, da-ze!" Korea cackled. "Mr. Myung-bak is okay about that anyway. And I do some stuff from my phone."

"Did you look at the article yet?" Hong Kong asked impatiently.

"No," Korea replied, turning to the iPad. "Seriously, I gotta get one of these, da-ze!"

"What article is that?" China asked, sitting criss-cross with them.

"Well, you know back in '02 how you started using coal for, like, eeeeeeverything?"

"Mhm, aru."

"They said that's the main reason why global warming's stopped for the time being."

"Whoa, really?" Korea asked.

Hong Kong raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you reading it?"

"No, I'm playing the Checkers App- OW! What was that for?"

"Gimme that back. You're probably wrecking my hiscore."

"So what does it say? I'm saving the universe with my nonrenewable energy?" China prodded Hong Kong with his foot, lying back on the floor lazily.

"Sorta." The teenager leaned back into the couch and opened a can of Coke. "For the time being, some stuff in the coal is reflecting the heat back off into space. But there's still tonsa carbon alongside it, and when the good stuff wears off it'll make the temperature go, like, UP."

"Oh, for the sake of potstickers. Try not to tell me stuff like that on my day off, aru!" China groaned. "Now everyone's gonna get on my back about _that, _too-"

"Just use my Evade Work technique!" Korea suggested. "Works every time, da-ze!"

"So it's saying that it happened in Europe and the US, too," Hong Kong continued. "Like, after World War 2 and stuff."

"Oh, good. So they can't be hypocrites, aru."

"Sun activity, volcanoes, and water vapor also make the temperatures stay the same even after you take on more alternative energy thingies," Hong Kong continued. "Oh, and there are some other studies saying that the temperatures may or may not stay the same once you factor in boring stuff like ocean currents and clouds after that."

"Ahhh, clouds." China stared straight ahead, which for him was at the circular window he'd built into the ceiling on a whim once. "They're all fluffy today, aru."

"And then it says that this debunks the well-it-isn't-getting-worse-so-why-should-I-believe-in-it theory."

"What's with you and reading BBC articles all the time?" Korea demanded. "It's like you're reading soppy kissy-kissy texts from your new significant other or something."

Hong Kong threw an unopened can of Coke at his brother. "If there's one good thing about living in England's house, it's that you keep up on the news. The BBC is friggin' awesome."

"You neeeerd."

"I'm not a nerd. You're just a dumbass."

"Take that back! I'm way more friggin' awesome than the BBC, da-ze!"

"I think Hong Kong's right, aru," the eldest had to say. "And you didn't deny the dumbass part."

"How could you betray meeeeee~ Aniki, brace for punishment! ALL YOUR BREAST ARE BELONG TO ME!"

"NOOOOOOOOOO, aruuuuuu!"

"Korea, get off _ge ge! _His face is turning blue!"

"NEVAR, da-ze!"

"AIYAAAH!" (Something crashed into the wall) "Hahaha, your techniques will never defeat the martial arts techniques that have taken me over 4,000 years to develop, aru!"

_"Ge ge, _was it really necessary to throw him into the wall?"

"Yes. That it was, aru."

"My baaaaaack! You've ruined me for marriage, da-ze!"

And thus the three Asians continued their questionably peaceful day in a house powered by questionably benevolent coal.

* * *

><p>Well, that's certainly interesting. America's "reflect it back at the sun" idea may not have been as idiotic as Iggy thought it was. Though it's kind of like getting drunk to cure a hangover- it's only going to make things much worse for yourself later. Not that I would know about drinking, but...<p>

By the way: after reading "Life as We Knew It" by Susan Beth Pfeiffer, I began to think tons more about how each element of the environment interacts with the others and how fragile the world's balance is. Recommended reading for all.

Thanks for faving/reviewing/etc.!


	23. Chapter 23

Thanks to The Fairy Cake for catching my failness as usual XD I felt like I owed you a chapter head after all that. And as a gift for all of you lovelies... MOAR ASEANS! (I feel like everyone reviewing is learning/has learned Chinese at some point and I still don't know if I'll be able to do the class I'm planning to... WAAH, ARU! ;n;)

Today's story is "Pyeongchang will host the 2018 Winter Olympics" with no author given seen on the BBC website at news(dot)bbc(dot)co(dot)uk/sport2/hi/other_sports/winter_sports/8753631(dot)stm on July 6th, 2011.

You know how cool it would be to own something? But alas...

* * *

><p>The room was very, very quiet, save for scribbling pencils and someone kicking the table leg rapidly.<p>

"Please bubble in your answer fully in a number 2 pencil," the Hatsune Miku robot requested. Hopefully, everyone complied.

Five minutes later, the robot asked another favor. "Please pass your ballots to the person to your left."

(Ballots shuffled, the table kicking grew more rapid, the robot's mechanical arm reached for scantrons . . .)

"I am now scanning your ballots."

Everyone held their breath. The table kicking stopped. Even Latvia looked like a stone statue.

And then . . .

"BLAAAACK ROOOOCK SHOOOTAH, どこに行ったのーーー?"

Every nation in the room, including stoics like Iceland and Norway, jumped about twenty meters when the robot started blasting music. Austria looked like a tornado had just uprooted him and thrown him to Alpha Centauri; Liechtenstein teared up and hugged her brother tight. Russia just about landed on poor Seychelles, who ducked out of the way just in time and hugged her tuna plushie in shock. America's hands flashed up to his face so quickly that Texas flew off and hit the ceiling before landing on a disgruntled Iggy.

"Hatsune-san! Please stop this!" Japan shouted, shaking his robot as the chaos continued.

The music suddenly stopped. "Yes, Master! Shall I sing anot-"

"NO!" shouted the entire room, which was trying to catch its bearings.

"Hatsune-san, please tally the votes and present the results. Without music, if that's not too much trouble."

"Yes, Master." If it was possible for a robot to look disappointed, Miku did.

Everyone started to sit back down as Miku set the ballots in a pile. She waved one hand over the pile slowly, as if she was using the Force. After a few moments, she spoke again.

"The results will now be displayed on the screen behind you."

* * *

><p><strong>Three Statistics Shown on an Overhead Screen<strong>

2018 WINTER OLYMPICS HOST VOTES:

PYEONGCHANG, SOUTH KOREA: 63 VOTES

MUNICH, GERMANY: 25 VOTES

ANNECY, FRANCE: 7 VOTES

CONGRATULATIONS, SOUTH KOREA

* * *

><p><strong>A Few Reactions to Said Statistics<strong>

"Oh, come on! Zat is ze most ridiculous thing zat 'as ever-"

"Germany, Germanyyy! I'm really sorry you lost!"

_"Sehr gut, Italien. _At the very least, I am not France."

"YES! YES! OMGBBQHAXORS YES! THE 2018 WINTER OLYMPICS SHALL ORIGINATE IN ME!"

"Hey, Iggy! Where's Pyongchingyang? Isn't that in Commieland?"

"I don't know if explaining it to you would make much of a difference."

"HEY JAPAN! 오빠! LOOK WHO'S THE SECOND ASIAN TO HOST! SECOND THE BEST-"

"Korea, you need to calm down, aru! Don't make us regret voting for you!"

"But _ge ge, _I've waited sooooo loooong and finally everyone voted for me!"

"Mmmm~ I wonder if the tuna in Korea is any good?"

* * *

><p>Finally, the annoying robot was turned off and the meeting turned into an informal gathering.<p>

The Asian countries/Special Administrative Territories had decided to forget about their current territorial disputes long enough to order South Korea a cake and celebrate a little. Even North Korea could be seen getting a piece and shaking hands with her twin before Kim Jong Il came to get her.

Meanwhile, Canada was consoling a wailing France ("'Ow could zey forget my eco-friendly campaign?"). It wasn't going well, since- surprisingly enough- France remembered that Canada had just hosted the Winter Olympics.

Prussia was spouting nonsense about how "unawesome" everyone else was for choosing someone annoying over his brother. Several people were trying to get him to shut up and not ruin South Korea's moment. Several more were pointing out how annoying Prussia was himself.

Russia was talking happily about how excited he and General Winter were to host the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi. A few former Soviet states were cringing in fear. Belarus, on the other hand, changed into a "SOCHI 2014" T-shirt and jeans five minutes later. Russia kept quiet after that.

After Japan had finished his cake and given his brother an awkward pat on the back, he decided to put the Miku robot back in the box. As he was settling her into position for the plane ride home, he noticed something on her face.

"Is that tape?"

The tape had been concealed very well, but it most certainly was painted duct tape. Japan was irritated. He'd spent years and yen perfecting that robot, and he was _not _about to have it vandalized so rudely. He ripped it off veeery carefully-

-only to reveal the ugliest, evil mouth grinning back at him.

And on closer inspection, one could see the words "MIKA HATSUNE: PROPERTY OF AND MADE IN CHINA AND NOT AT ALL A RIPOFF OF MIKU HATSUNE" under her chin. In Japanese.

"No wonder it was so defective . . ."

* * *

><p>That "hands whacking your glasses off your face so that they hit the ceiling" thing has happened to me before. I was laughing too hard to be embarrassed. Plus the Miku Hatsune robot has been featured in Reader's Digest before! There's a video of her singing "Melt" online.<p>

XD CONGRATS SOUTH KOREA!


	24. Chapter 24

I was torn between two stories again! Why must it be so hard to choose? Happy Tanabata, by the way! =3

I chose "Surgeons carry out first synthetic windpipe transplant" by Michelle Roberts, seen on the BBC website at www(dot)bbc(dot)co(dot)uk/news/health-14047670 on July 7th, 2011.

I own nothing. I do own my trachea/windpipe, I suppose.

* * *

><p>An odd-looking assortment of nations were sitting outside Karolinska University Hospital in Stockholm, Sweden, drinking coffee.<p>

England, Spain, Sweden, Iceland, and Korea, to be exact.

(Iceland was still on Facebook, of course.)

No one was hurt. Nothing was tense in the least. Korea, probably in a good mood from yesterday's happenings, wasn't even being annoying. Nothing even mildly suspicious was going on.

Spain munched on a churro a little impatiently. "Hey, what time is it?"

"14:33," England replied. "Our appointment is in twelve minutes."

Spain nodded. "Okay. I can't wait to see Mr. Beyene! Professor Macchiarini and the other scientists worked so hard for him."

"Who?" Iceland asked, not really paying attention.

"Mr. Andemariam Teklesenbet Beyene is from Eritrea," England explained. "He's studying in one of your universities, but he needed a trachea. That's why he had the surgery a month ago. Spain mentioned Professor Paolo Macchiarini- he's the one who directed the surgery."

"Oh." Iceland mulled it over for a moment. "Wait, so why is that so important?"

"The windpipe was made from his own cells," Sweden told him.

"They can do that?" He looked mildly impressed.

"Now they can!" said Korea. "And the windpipe originated in-"

"England," Sweden cut in quickly.

"My scientists made the trachea," England said with a sharp glance at Korea, "which is why I'm here. Sweden and Spain collaborated on the surgery itself, and Korea has a child patient on whom they'd like to use this technique."

"I was gonna say," Iceland deadpanned. "This gathering is more random than the stuff in Finland's food."

Sweden quickly adjusted his glasses, Spain noticed with a grin.

* * *

><p>A kind-looking Swedish doctor directed them upstairs to Mr. Beyene's room. "As far as we can tell, this surgery was a true success. Mr. Beyene is recovering very well. Since the trachea was made from his own body tissue, he doesn't even need to take antirejection drugs."<p>

"Groundbreaking," Sweden grunted, impressed.

"Certainly," the doctor agreed. "But let me tell you, those twelve hours in surgery made us all sweat like crazy! I don't know how Professor Macchiarini handled it." He chuckled to himself as the elevator _dinged_.

"This is us."

They filed down the hall towards the patient rooms. Spain wondered if he'd see Professor Macchiarini around. He was a really cool guy to talk to; it was remarkable that the Professor actually liked to work. _Que interesante._

"Here we are," the doctor announced.

Filing into the room, England presented Mr. Beyene with a bouquet of flowers, which he accepted gratefully. A BBC reporter, who had been speaking to him before, smiled and thanked the resting man before leaving the room.

"Oh," the doctor said. "One of you'll have to leave the room. Sorry; it's protocol."

"I'll go!" Spain volunteered. "Hope you're feeling better, Mr. Beyene!"

"Thank you," the weak man replied.

Spain decided to walk back towards the waiting room while the others visited with the patient. He was really hoping to congratulate his doctor on a job well done!

And, just as he'd hoped, Professor Paolo Macchiarini himself came strolling down the hall with a whistle.

"Ah, it's you again! The government representative, Mr.- err-"

"Carriedo," Spain replied. "Great to see you again, Professor! I was hoping to congratulate you for your surgery. Mr. Beyene looks like he's doing well!"

The professor's eyes lit up. "Thank you so much, Mr. Carriedo! I'm amazed how smoothly things went! Such groundbreaking advancements these are- we can recreate so many organs this way! Please tell the representative from Korea I met earlier that I can't wait to treat the child he spoke of."

"I certainly will, Professor!"

* * *

><p>Mr. Beyene reached weakly for the glass of water at his side. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate you coming. Everyone has been so kind to me during this process. I owe my life to the doctors in particular."<p>

"It's our pleasure," England replied, apparently the group's spokesperson. "My fellow representatives very much appreciate the risk you've taken in undergoing this surgery."

"And that is my pleasure. You on the left are the representative from South Korea, I presume?"

Korea gave him a thumbs-up. "The one and only!"

"I wish the infant you spoke of luck during his surgery."

"I'll pass it on to the parents, da-ze!"

"What are your plans for when you're released?" Sweden asked.

"Well," he contemplated, glancing at Iceland, "I'll study geology in Iceland until I get my degree. Then I'll head back to my family in Eritrea. I have a wife to kiss and a three-month-old to meet."

"Again, we're very happy for you," England told him. "We'll be sure to keep up on your progress in the future."

"Thank you," the brave man murmured, leaning back into his pillow. "Thank you."

* * *

><p>Uploaded this from the hotel in San Diego (wrote it in the car) and I think the bad karma from stealing wifi from Starbucks came to get me. I have to pay for this stuff now 0_0 $13 a night! Gah! (Tomorrow I'll try to steal it from a Starbucks, I guess.)<p>

I wish Mr. Beyene and the Korean baby the best of luck in recovering! I'm very pleased about this technology coming out- it'll be very useful in treating cancer. Professor Macchiarini's a very accomplished surgeon, too. So much to be glad about.

Thanks for your reviews! ^_^


	25. Chapter 25

Sorry, I have to cheat again ^_^;; I found a flag shop today, and since I babysat my cousins, I was allowed to go insane. XD I bought the flags of Austria, Hungary, Poland, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Russia, and Azerbaijan (from which I have a friend).

Today's story is "Weather may delay space history" by Jonathan Amos seen on the BBC website at www(dot)bbc(dot)co(dot)uk/news/science-environment-14074459 on July 7th, 2011.

Don't even get me started on how awesome it would be to own a spaceship. *sighs at what could have been*

* * *

><p>Rain. Rain from buckets and bathtubs, rain made of cats and dogs and horses and blue whales. Rain that would refill the Pacific Ocean. Rain that could wash the colors out of the brightest city.<p>

Rain that continued on and on and on and on and on until you resigned yourself to a world full of endlessly spattering water bullets.

Torrential, brain-breaking rain.

Canada sighed and stared out the window of a quiet, gray hall in Kennedy Space Center. He wondered if somehow, his brother's heart had summoned it. The cheer from his birthday had worn off quicker than usual in the light of something he loved just _ending _so abruptly, and now this rain had to drag it out.

He still couldn't believe America was really going through with this. America loved exploring places. Whether it be a prairie, a desert, or the moon, you could trust America to be there and inspect every little inch of it.

It was an aspect of his star-spangled sibling he'd always looked up to; Canada remembered his earlier days when he himself had traveled up and down his spectacular mountain ranges.

"Oh, America," he murmured to himself. "Why did you have to give up space?"

The answer was obvious. America was running out of money (that's what these debt talks and tariff-lifting deals with Mexico were all about), and he couldn't afford to spend it like a teenage girl in a shopping mall.

But still. If there was _one thing _Canada would never want him to have to let go, it was the ability and means to go and explore new places.

Suddenly he needed to talk to his brother. He checked the cafeteria (not there?), the TV room (no dice here), the gift shop (okay, maybe not).

On his way, he kept checking the windows.

Still raining.

* * *

><p>Eventually, he found America sitting cross-legged on a desk in what looked like some sort of control room. For whatever reason, it wasn't being used right now. The Windows computers all displayed the same screensaver- the maze one that sucked in your attention for hours on end.<p>

America was facing the door, though, away from the screens. There were no windows to look out of here. Rain didn't exist in this room. It was kind of peaceful, actually. He was almost sorry to have disturbed it.

"Hi, Canada," America said simply, eyes dead.

"Hi, America," the hockey lover replied. "Are you doing all right?"

No answer.

"Did they say anything about tomorrow?" Canada tried. "Will the storm be letting up?"

A shake of the head. Canada went to sit next to him.

"You know I'm sorry too, right?"

Nothing. After a bit, a small, almost invisble nod.

"It must hurt, America. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay." He had the tone of someone trying not to break down in front of another. "It's not your fault."

"Is there something I can get for you?" Canada asked, rubbing America's back. "Coke? Dr. Pepper? Water?"

Another shake of the head, but he had eased a little into the warm contact.

Canada didn't know what to say, so he decided not to say anything at all.

Eventually, his brother spoke.

"I thought it was so cool when it started. Astronauts were the most amazing people in the world. Like Superman and the President and Babe Ruth. And then I started to take it for granted, and now . . . and now this."

"I know," the northern nation soothed. "It's okay. It happens."

"But I shouldn't have let it. Heroes don't forget things like that."

"Heroes aren't perfect."

"Is this the hero-getting-tortured part? Where I have to wait so long to see the last launch?"

"Maybe. But it's okay. I'm here."

America leaned into a hug. He fit just right in Canada's arms. They each completed half of their human jigsaw puzzle.

"Some weather we're having, huh," he muttered into Canada's ear after a minute, not letting his grip loosen.

They both laughed a little- that laugh you have when you've just taken the _right _amount of crap over the _right _amount of time and you simply _cannot_ bring yourself to care much at that point.

"You can say that again," the oft-forgotten maplephile responded. "What were the chances of a delay? 60%?"

"70," he laughed. "Not to mention that thunderbolt that may or may not have hit it."

"Ugh. That sounds real fun."

"I feel kinda bad for all those people who are coming to see it. And the news stations are prolly going insane."

"But don't let it get to you. It's not the last launch forever," Canada reminded him. "I heard talk about turning things over to private investors."

"Yeah, but it's still the end of the program. I'll miss it."

"I know you will."

"Hey, Canada?"

"Hmm?"

"If they delay things 'till Sunday, will you come back to watch the launch with me?"

"I'll make it no matter what."

"Do you swear on maple syrup?"

"On that and Canadian bacon."

"Okay. Thank you."

If anyone had gone looking for either of the blond boys and chanced upon a certain windowless meeting room an hour or so later, he or she would have seen one of them singing "O Canada" in French to himself while rubbing the (sleeping soundly) other one on the back.

But no one did, so they remained that way for a while longer.

* * *

><p>Good news! The 30% pulled through and it launched! :D<p>

America and Canada aren't portrayed as particularly close in canon, but I feel like they are that way. America has his sensitive points sometimes (look at those new scanlations of Volume 4 when he receives a present from Iggy!), and I know Canada would know to be a caring brother at a time like this.


	26. Chapter 26

I kind of wanted to write about the Sudan split, but then I would have needed OCs. And I can't bring myself to use them. I CAN'T.

I have chosen the following story for you wonderful people today: "Japan tsunami: 'Not the end of the world'" by Mariko Oi seen on the BBC News website at news(dot)bbc(dot)co(dot)uk/2/hi/programmes/from_our_own_correspondent/9533653(dot)stm on July 8th, 2011.

I own nothing, not even a decently-priced Internet connection -_-;;;

* * *

><p>"How have you been, old chap?" England greeted, hopping out of the van he'd arrived in.<p>

"Ah, it is England-san," Japan replied. "Herro. I have been well. As for you?"

"Fine, fine. So, any particular reason why I was told I could find you out here today?"

"Out here" was the port town, Kesennuma, that had been ripped apart during the earthquake and tsunami disaster.

Japan touched the bandaging of his shoulder wound that stood for his northeastern coast. "I have been checking up on sings here. I am arways concerned with the well-being of Fukushima and Miyagi these days."

"This is part of Miyagi, correct?"

"Collect."

"What was- oh. Yes, I could see much of the damage on the drive here."

Japan nodded. "I see. I appreciate your concern."

England knew Japan would never be direct enough to ask him exactly why he'd come to see him. _It's always been me that's gotten to the point first. _It wasn't an uncomfortable arrangement- they were just naturally opposite. England spelled out the situation politely, while Japan painted a vague picture that still allowed a sharp listener to fill in the rest.

So England initiated the conversation as usual. "I've seen you around with your bandaged shoulder and just wanted to know how your recovery was going."

"Ah, that." Japan thought for a moment. "Would you rike to take a walk?"

"Sure." England could sure use one after being on trains, planes, and cars all day.

So the two started off, Japan making sure England was observing the things he needed him to.

"A lot of working-age peopre have left the area," the smaller man noted as England took in just how many more elderly people than usual there were. "Sey needed good jobs. But many more young peopre have stayed to help."

The two island nations passed by a middle school. Girls in summer uniforms (it was so hot today!) chatted outside, thankful that school was over for the day, as the boys near them shot hoops in PE uniforms.

"But," Japan said, "Normal activities at the schoors have lesumed for the most part."

As he said that, the girls looked up from their phones and waved to them, amazed at the 「金髪の男！」they were seeing.

"Ah. They called you a brond guy," Japan translated.

"We are hopu-" the boy calling out to them turned to his friend for assistance- "you enjoy our country, Japan!"

England had to chuckle at his honest effort. "I am! Thank you!"

The students bowed and resumed their activities.

"See? Rively as ever." Japan was smiling a little bit. "Shall we continue?"

After ten or so minutes of walking, Japan stopped again. "This high school has an evacuation center. This is the other thing I would rike to show you."

England observed silently. The gymnasium was covered in futons, cardboard boxes, and mostly elderly people.

「遠い所ご苦労様 。」Several people called the phrase out upon seeing him.

"'Thank you for visiting after such an exhausting journey,' they said," Japan whispered. "I would like it if you spoke with some of these peopre. I will transrate for you."

Most people were happy to see "refreshingly youthful young men" (as well as a bit impressed by England's blond hair). England could respond to a few things in Japanese, and the people there were understanding of his mistakes. A few of the old women called one such mishap "cute".

Throughout their stay, England noticed, there was no complaining about housing or food, as elderly people were apt to do. They just wanted to speak with England- what he thought about Japan, why he was visiting, if he liked certain types of green tea better than others, and such. He found himself having quite a good time.

Every now and then, a twenty- or thirty-something adult volunteer would wander in with food/water or clothing donations. He noticed Japan's eyes softening each time he saw them.

Finally, it was dinner time at the shelter, so the island nations left.

"I brought you to the schools today because those peopre embody my spirit the best," Japan explained. "I was worried about my younger generation a whire back- the ones that are twenty and thirty now- thinking, _What if they do not carry on my spirit of unity? _But after this, I have seen that that is not true. Every generation has been nobre and helpful in the effort to recover from this inconvenience."

England nodded, thinking that only Japan would call something like this an inconvenience. "They most certainly were."

The smaller man nodded. "They had a prasma TV up front. Did you notice?"

"Yes," the "brond guy" said. "As well as your famous cell phone addiction affecting just about everyone."

Japan smiled. "I wouldn't know how to get arong without one anymore."

"So this was really one of the hardest-hit areas?" England asked.

A nod. "See? And even they do not think it's Armageddon or Third Impact or even a _kaiju _attack. What has happened to me is terribre, but I will emerge victorious. My people call it the 'Gambare Nippon' campaign."

_Gambare._ England remembered Japan explaining the essence of the word to him once. It was an expression that acknowledged that someone was struggling, but also encouraged that person to accomplish his or her goal by letting them know you believed in him or her. Such a complex meaning for three syllables.

It also reminded him of the times when he could genuinely fear that London, his heart and soul, would be bombed to nothing. "You know, Japan, that sounds a little bit like my survival mantra for World War 2. 'Keep calm and carry on.'"

"Hmm." Japan digested it for a moment. "You're right."

"We can be uncannily similar in regards to some things, can't we?"

"We certainry can."

* * *

><p>Nippon is the older, traditional word for Nihon, or Japan. Yay for identical kanji being read differently simply because Japan is mean and wants to fry my pitiful gaijin brain.<p>

But I don't really mind 'cause I'm a linguistics nerd 8-B

England and Japan are freakishly similar, if you think about it. Go to the Real Life WMGs- the main page- on TV Tropes and read that list.


	27. Chapter 27

Looks like this is going to be a nighttime-posted-morning production for the last few chapters, since starting an hour and a half from now I'll be settling in to an academic camp. XD By the way, the netbook I'm writing this on refuses to do accent marks even with foreign keyboards on. OTL

OMAHGAWD THE DUKE AND DUCHESS OF CAMBRIDGE ARE IN MY STATE. They were in Santa Barbara, which I was sorta close to a few days ago! Aaaagh stupid schedule preventing me from going to see them

Today/night's story is: "Berlusconi's Finnivest ordered to pay 560m euro damages" seen on the BBC website at www(dot)bbc(dot)co(dot)uk/news/world-europe-14091890 on July 9th, 2011.

*Owns nothing* Don't rub it in. ;n;

* * *

><p>North Italy supposed waking up to a long, harsh string of curses was one of the more interesting ways to do so. It would have been a lot nicer had it not abruptly terminated his siesta.<p>

_It's funny! Fratello says he'd never learn German, but when he cusses like that, it sounds way harsher than German. Oh, didn't I tell him that one time? The bruise hurt for weeks._

"VENEZIANOOOOOOO!" Romano finished his rant.

"Coming," he called, rubbing at his eyes.

He sleepily stumbled down the last few stairs and to the couch. Romano was in the chair facing him, reading the newspaper. His face was so red!

"_Fratello_, you should have taken a siesta," the northern brother suggested. "Then maybe you wouldn't be so mad."

Romano _hmpf_ed at the proposal. "Whatever. It's our damn boss and his goddamn idiotic corruption and buying hookers and-"

"I don't like Mr. Berlusconi either," Veneziano said. "But isn't it good that he said he wouldn't run in the next elections? Why aren't you happy?"

"That was then," the tomatophile grumbled, shoving the paper at his brother. "_This _is now."

Italy read the title. It was something about their PM's company being fined.

"_Fratello_, what's there to be mad about? His company is getting fined."

"I _know _that," said big brother fumed impatiently. "It's not that part. It's just how _corrupt _he is and I hate him and I wish I could kick his rotting ass out of office and straight into _Inferno this second-"_

"Just a little while to go," Italy's northern half reassured.

"Not little enough," Romano muttered. "They fined him that time because they found out he bribed a _judge, _of all people, to let him buy out another company. Now he could be off cheating the whole damn financial system and we'll be eating pasta like ignoramuses."

They sighed, both a little sleepy.

"A hundred and six trials," Romano muttered after a minute.

"That's how many he's been in?" _I don't know if I've run to Germany through Switzerland's house a hundred and six- oh, yeah I have._

"And it wasted 200 million euros." Romano eyed the couch jealously. "Go back to your bed. I want the couch."

"Finders keepers," Veneziano murmured sleepily. "Plus you ruined my siesta."

"But I haven't had one yet!"

"Too bad. You always talk about Berlusconi, and you know I don't like him either, so I have to hear about him when I don't even want to think about him. The least you could do is let me have the couch."

"You're a twerp little brother who always sleeps whether it's siesta time or not. Go back to bed."

"No, _fratello! _We have a big house and you get money from shady people too, so go off and buy your own!"

"Says the one who couldn't even buy something other than a dress for a good few centuries-"

"You let Spain dress you up how he wanted, too!"

"That has nothing to do with-"

"You ruined my siesta again with all your yelling," Veneziano pouted. "I don't know who you love more, now, Mr. Berlusconi or Spain, because they both make you yell all loud."

"L-LOVE?" Romano sputtered, face turning into a tomato.

"Mhm." Veneziano decided to keep going, because Big Brother's face looked so funny that way! "Now I don't even think you love your own little _fratello _anymore."

Tomano (tomato-Romano, get it?) glared at the windowsill with a grunt.

"_Fratello_, prove to me you won't leave me for Mr. Berlusconi and take a siesta with me!"

"On the couch?" Tomano asked dubiously.

Veneziano nodded. "Yeah! It'll be fun! Veh~ Please, Romano!"

His brother turned his red face away and sighed. "Fine. Move over."

"Yaaaay!" North Italy cheered, genuinely delighted to have Romano with him. "Let's take a siesta!"

South Italy scooched into the space next to him. "This is only to prove how much I hate BerlurottenEnglishscones. It has nothing to do with you."

"Veh~ _Fratello, _you know you're enjoying it!"

But there was no answer. Romano had already fallen asleep.

Italy yawned and followed suit, visions of zombie bunny sugarplums dancing through his head dressed as Lady Gaga and doing a treadmill dance routine.

Several hours later, North Italy woke up with two goals in mind.

Objective #1: Remembering where he had woken up and about what time it was.

"Oh." That had been a really long siesta! The sun had moved completely across the room.

Second order of business: Romano was draped all over him, still snoozing away and much too heavy to roll off the couch in this position!

"Maybe that wasn't such a good joke after all . . ."

* * *

><p>Lady Gaga comes from Italy. I couldn't resist.<p>

"Tomano" came from my exhausted brain typing "Romano" wrong, but it turned out to be a pretty good pun so I just left it in.


	28. Chapter 28

I'm starting an academic camp thing so I'm REALLY REALLY pressed for time here. I should have written earlier XD Sorry.

Today's story is "Many missing as Russian boat Bulgaria sinks on Volga" with no author given seen on the BBC website at www(dot)bbc(dot)co(dot)uk/news/world-europe-14099637 on July 10th, 2011.

I own nothing! But at least the Internet's free!

* * *

><p>Russia sighed and watched as the sun set on his river between clusters of dark clouds.<p>

So many people dead or missing.

Or both.

It was a shame, really. This was peak tourist season for the Volga River. A boat sinking and killing so many would probably hurt his tourism.

He strolled along the familiar street, dragging his hands along barbed-wire fences and kicking the occasional rock. A normal, soothing routine.

The scene to the left of him was unfamiliar. Alien. Rescue boats were starting off. Families crowded the streets, most of them foreigners, crying and calling out for loved ones.

This wasn't how Russia wanted his summer to feel.

The Bulgaria had been an old tour boat, so there were a number of things that could have gone wrong with it. Maybe his not-so-ideal weather had been a part of the problem. (Russia sighed at a particularly gray cloud as if to blame the poor fluffy glob of water for everything.) Or maybe it simply gave out.

Maybe the children had filled up too much of the boat.

"Children should know better than to all crowd the boat at once, da?" Russia murmured to himself. "So impatient."

He was almost at the port of Kazan, where relatives were waiting to hear from loved ones. From where he was standing, they all looked like a mob of little ants.

_Bzzzzz._

Russia's nose twitched at the sound of his phone vibrating (ringtones were too annoying, and vibrating made lots of noise. He'd like to silence it, but he needed updates).

**Contents of the text from **_**Bosses**_

"Approx. number of passengers/crew on board: 199

"Confirmed dead: 6

"Approx. recovered: 80

"Please respond when received"

**Contents of reply from **_**Russia**_

"Understood"

* * *

><p>Kazan was bustling, mostly because of the tragedy.<p>

People with grim faces looked to the port, to the quickly darkening sky, to the port again.

Russia quickly got bored of all these people simply beating around the bush with their tense silence, so he decided to head to the port with all the ant children.

Finally, people who didn't avoid things.

Russia was tall and strong, and didn't blend into crowds well. No matter. He would observe first-hand what had happened. Catching snippets of conversation was usually more informative than raw statistics. The emotion in the people's voices- the way they trailed off in despair- gave you something to mull over later.

Nightmares, sometimes.

Even Russia had those.

His findings for the day had him up later than usual.

"I saw some divers out there, but they're not finding anything . . ."

". . . said the ships next to them didn't do _anything!"_

". . . the last cruise I ever take . . ."

". . . released something saying there wasn't much hope . . ."

"I couldn't grab her hand and now she's gone . . ."

"There were children! They all went off to play . . ."

". . . my wife. Why couldn't I just have reached a few more inches and grabbed her hand?"

". . . I'm tellin' yeh, the ship'as bad! She'as listing starboard and she up an' . . ."

". . . there was a play area for the children, but we haven't seen them since . . ."

"He said they didn't make an announcement, it just sank!"

". . . oh, please don't cry now! They'll find her!"

"Those kids- oh, I thank my lucky stars I left Sasha at home. He probably would have run off with them too."

". . . but her name was on the news, Mom. I don't want to stay here."

"We should have never come . . ."

". . . the love of my life- and I couldn't have reached that tiny distance . . ."

* * *

><p>Russia woke up, the soundtrack of what he'd heard on the port echoing weakly in his mind.<p>

He found himself lonely. He wanted a noisy house so that he wouldn't have to hear these things instead of impossibly loud, crushing silence. 4'33 wasn't his favorite song, to say the least.

To fill up the air with something noisy, he heaved a sigh. _There. Better._

Russia wondered why he always did that to himself. Sometimes he'd do terrible things to people just to put himself through a terrible cycle of guilt. Now were times when he'd do the next best thing- revel in the tragedies of others. It was all self-inflicted pain.

Would he really want something like that to happen to his loved ones? It wasn't that long ago when he'd starved his sisters, carved deep scars onto Lithuania's back, built fences and walls that ripped the world in half-

He felt just a little more human when he realized that he'd changed. That his answer had changed.

No, no he would not.

* * *

><p>I hope I didn't bug my roommates by writing so late. Err, early. It's 12:04.<p>

Look up 4'33". Seriously, do. XD


	29. Chapter 29

So I'm all like "I won't go on the hike cause I don't feel like changing and I need time to study/write, aru."

And I checked my Deviant

And now I haven't written yet *shot*

I'm happy and sad about this fanfic ending tomorrow. I don't know what I'll do to try and find a meaningful story for the finale (hehe) so let's wish me luck, I guess!

Today's: "Germany: Blueprints for new BND spy agency HQ 'missing'" with no author given seen on the BBC website at www(dot)bbc(dot)co(dot)uk/news/world-europe-14111290 on July 11th, 2011.

I don't own anything. I also didn't steal anything.

* * *

><p>Germany and Prussia were enjoying an awesome brotherly outing. Gilbird was there too, because he was awesome. They were all in Berlin because it was awesome there. At least, his side was. He couldn't speak for his <em>Bruder's.<em>

"Isn't this awesome?" Prussia asked for the thousandth time.

"If I hear that word _one more time . . ." _he could have sworn Germany muttered, but of course it was too unawesome to really have been said. Germany really _did _say, "Yes, it is."

"You know what would be even more awesome?" he suggested. "Gilbird, you wanna tell him?"

Gilbird chirped. _Oh, I guess he can't say it, then. Whatever._

"I think you should see the awesome thing I'm building. Kesesese~"

Germany lifted an eyebrow. It must have been because he was so impressed by his awesomenessityrificalness. "Oh? And which 'awesome thing' would that happen to be?"

"You know," Prussia said with the most unmanly wink ever. "The _awesome _one."

Germany stopped walking, his face growing horrified. Wow, how unawesome. _"Bruder! _Don't go around saying these things in public!"

"Everyone knows they're building it. It's no big a deal. Kesesese~"

Germany kept scolding him. How dare he. "Yes, but it's an expensive building. You need to take very good care of it." He lowered his voice. "I'm entrusting you with _my _spy headquarters too, you know. Do you realize how much rests on your shoulders?"

_Gott,_ he wasn't _that _stupid. "Of course I do, kesesese~ Instead of talking about it, why don't I _show _you how awesomely it's going?"

His _Bruder _stared at him for a second before sighing. _"Ja, ja."_

* * *

><p>Germany was apprehensive. More than apprehensive. Prussia suddenly deciding to take him to the new BND spy headquarters building was creeping him out.<p>

Something had gone wrong.

Something. Anything.

Watch it turn out that Prussia have forgotten to install a security camera system or something.

Just _watch._

If Prussia was so eager to head over there, it was inevitable.

They were on Prussia's side of Berlin now, speeding through crowds of tourists and natives alike. Finally, they were facing the unfinished building.

Prussia kept dragging him until they reached the construction headquarters.

"Look how awesomely I'm handing your building. Talk to Joseph here. He's the manager of construction and stuff."

"I'm sorry, _Herr Preußen,_ but I'm Hans," the nervous just-out-of-college kid whispered. "I'm a receptionist."

"Oh, Hansi. OK, well, tell my _Bruder _here what's been going on lately."

"Ummm..." the kid looked like he was about to cry. _"Herr Preußen, _you took the blueprints with you the other day. Why don't you show him those?"

"Oooohhh, yeah! Thanks, Hansi!" Prussia grinned. "In fact, I had them in this exact same coat before. Let me just get them-"

His face faulted.

As did Germany's.

_He did not. _

_He did NOT lose those blueprints._

* * *

><p><em>"H-herr Preußsen?" <em>Hans asked nervously.

Prussia chuckled nervously. "Well, I never said I left them on the bus or anything when I was going to get some coffee downtown or anything unawesome like that. Or anything. I'm sure I just left them at _Österreich's _house in the bushes and stuff!"

Germany sat down in the corner and started cursing to himself as Prussia spoke. "You know that garden has been booby-trapped since the day the Berlin Wall went down."

"Well, maybe _Ungarn _decided to be awesome and let me in-"

"I know for a fact she would never undo those booby traps."

Prussia sighed. "Don't be mad . . ."

"It was my pride and joy. And you just gave away everything. Security plans, emergency response systems, anti-terrorism programs . . ."

"It was an accident! If you care so much, go look for them yourself!"

Germany presented his _Bruder _with the most murderous expression he could muster.

"Oh, no. You are coming with _me."_

* * *

><p>After the rest of the day spent scouring every square millimeter of Berlin to no avail, the brothers had to give up for the day.<p>

"Maybe it's hidden in the junk of my man-cave somewhere!" Prussia suggested, but Germany was too exhausted to respond with as much optimism.

"No. No, it is not. You know why?"

Prussia grimaced. "Why...?"

Germany faced his brother and glared. His eyes were an estimated 100 googolplex more furious than choppily-played Chopin. "Because it is you. And I know _you_. _You_ ruin things. Not just ruin them. _You_ pulverize every single bit of any hope I may have in my heart for your success more sufficiently than I mash my potatoes. When I leave _you _with even the most simple task, you manage to screw it up _SO SPECTACULARLY _that I am forced to sputter incomprehensibly like the kid in the David After Dentist video. So no, you will not tear apart my basement in search of the blueprints, because they aren't there anyway."

Prussia gaped.

Gilbird chirped.

Prussia blinked.

Gilbird flew away in search of snickerdoodles to put on his roast beef.

Prussia had one last thing to say.

"You wouldn't happen to be PMSing because Japan's women's soccer team beat yours, would you?"

"SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!"

* * *

><p><em>"Shut uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup!" <em>someone screamed from far away.

Korea blinked in surprise. "Did you hear that?"

Hong Kong blinked. "Hear what?"

"That person screaming. It sounded like Germany."

"Oh." Hong Kong munched on a cracker with cheese. "We get that a lot. This house is set up weird, so we can pretty much hear everything."

"Daaaayuhm," Korea muttered, using one of the few words of English he could say properly. "No wonder Aniki never gets any sleep."

* * *

><p>Mom bought me a few boxes of Pocky for camp, so I actually was a Pockyvore while writing this chapter. And listening to Nyan Cat with my roommates. And helping corner one of them who tried to escape the room when she heard the UTTER TERROR Nyan Cat induces.<p> 


	30. Chapter 30

Sogrosssogrosssogross

So I had a little trouble finding the best story for today/morrow

The one eight billion spots below last place was about a California woman. Umm. Violently removing her husband's vital regions and shredding them in the garbage disposal.

Today's story is "IMF names first Chinese deputy managing director" with no author given seen on the BBC website at www(dot)bbc(dot)co(dot)uk/news/business-14131719 on July 12th, 2011.

I own nothing. My inner Hungary tells me I'll grow a certain bit of anatomy someday, but until then I don't own one of those, either.

* * *

><p>"Aniki, the mail's here, da-ze!" Korea called, throwing it on the table.<p>

No reply.

"It's useless," Hong Kong decided, grabbing some Doritos from the cupboard. "He'll never come out."

"Now I know where Japan and my idiot twin got it from," Korea muttered. "I mean, of course the concept of a _hikikomori _originated in yours truly, but China's pretty good at imitating."

Hong Kong tossed Korea a package of Maipen. "So why has he been hiding all day?"

Korea sighed. "Iunno. I'd go read his diary, but it's in the room he locked himself in. Plus the pinkness of Hello Kitty ripoff diaries burn my eyes, da-ze."

"So what can we do? He, like, locked up all of his phones and computers in the closet and hacked into our TVs so that they can't transmit noise. He's obviously hiding from something."

Korea made a face. "I noticed about the TV part."

They sighed for a minute.

"Wait a second!" Korea was so friggin' stoked that this idea had originated in him. He had to remember to buy a copyright before China ripped it off. "His mail! We can read his mail and figure it out!"

Hong Kong grinned. "Awesome."

Then they saw the mess on the table, now with the mail scattered as sparsely as croutons in a particularly failtastic salad.

* * *

><p>"Okay, so I think we've got all of today's stuff now, da-ze!" Korea declared, setting the envelopes down as if they were an Aztec human sacrifice on the altar.<p>

It was more or less an altar, really. Korea and Hong Kong had gone into the extra dining room, bringing the mail and plenty of junk food along with them. A hastily-written sign taped above the table read, "HKK Research Institute. Please keep out."

It was their shrine of pure eeevil.

Muahahaha!

(Da-ze.)

"Great," Hong Kong replied, unlocking his laptop and opening an orange soda. "First one."

"This one's a 20% off coupon to a Sanrio store. Useless."

"Recorded. Next?"

"D*raemon play notice. Useless."

"Gotcha."

"Your cell phone bill. Ouch."

"I'll take it. Next?"

"A Pekachu poster. Okay, that's just inhuman, da-ze!"

"Next?"

"Shipping notice for a Bakaloid robot . . .? Ooookay? He sent it to Japan. Huh."

"That one's old. I won't record it."

"Oh, okay. Moving on, note from America."

"What's it say?"

_"hey chna its me i hav 2 buy sum moar sprman undrpnts so gimme $$$ kthxbai."_

"Recorded as 'Will be conveniently lost later'. Move along."

"Umm . . . whoa." Korea stared at the next envelope.

It had been at the bottom of the stack of junk ads, so he hadn't really noticed it before. The paper felt like it was made of silk. He was pretty sure the ink used to type the address was laced with actual gold or something. _Soooo shinyyyyy..._

And it was from the International Monetary Fund.

"Hoooooooooooooly Girl's Generation-"

Hong Kong grabbed it reverently (which seemed impossible at first, but when one attains epic kung fu control skillz, one can achieve such things, grasshopper). "That's, like, probably what he was hiding from. The shininess of this . . . this . . ."

"This _thing," _Korea breathed in awe. "This thing with _stuff."_

"Yes," Hong Kong agreed in an equally amazed tone. "This thing with stuff."

They stared at the letter for a few minutes until their eyes got watery and they risked getting it all over the thing with stuff. They blinked furiously a few times, finally realizing that no, the letter had in fact _not _been bathed in light and guarded by choir angels.

"The IMF never sends _my _money in Things with Stuff, da-ze!" Korea pouted. "And the idea finds its origins in me, anyway. I can't believe they would give a Thing with Stuff to _him _and not _me_, da-ze!"

Hong Kong shook his head. "I bet it's, like, not even money."

Korea looked back at the envelope. "Not even money?"

"No. I bet it's . . . like . . . the key."

"A key? To what?"

Hong Kong brought his eyes to meet Korea's. They connected in one of the most deep and meaningful ways ever experienced by man. It was very bromantic. Hungary and Japan would have loved to be there, but alas. They were not blessed by the Thing with Stuff and thus were unable to witness the true meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything. (Unless they already knew it was 42.)

"The key . . . to _everything."_

Korea gasped, eyes still locked on his brother's. "Oh. My. Super. Junior."

"S-so what do you say?" Hong Kong asked somewhat nervously. "Do we open the Thing with Stuff, or wait for _ge ge _to face the music and do it himself?"

They looked back down to the Thing with Stuff for about six milliseconds before deciding unanimously:

"LETTER OPENER."

* * *

><p>They used a very, very thin, sharp knife to open the Thing with Stuff.<p>

Their reward slid out with a motion more fluid than a fish gliding through a clear pond.

_"I, Christine Lagarde, on behalf of the International Monetary Fund, would like to congratulate the People's Republic of China's Mr. Zhu Min on his appointment to our new position, Deputy Managing Director._

_"This is in accordance with our reforms bringing emerging economies into positions of power within our higher tiers._

_"Mr. Min has been an invaluble advisor to the International Monetary Fund for many years. His experience will be valued like no other. He will be working with a transformed IMF- a considerable amount of our personnel has changed as of late, such as the soon-to-be addition of a White House aide, David Lipton._

_"We hope to hear from you soon!_

_"With honor,_

_"Christine Lagarde_

_Director of the International Monetary Fund"_

They looked at the Thing with Stuff.

"I, for one," Hong Kong had to say, "am disappoint."

"Quite disappoint," Korea agreed. "That was boring."

"Stupid Thing with Stuff."

"Very stupid."

Hong Kong got up from the table. "Well, let's bring this idiotic piece of crap to our brother."

"Yeah, sure." Korea grabbed the thing with stuff (which now was too boring to deserve capital letters) and made his way up to China's room.

"HEY _GE GE_. IT'S US. LETTER FOR YOU, DA-ZE."

The muffled response: "Mmmmmph. Go away! I don't wanna see it, aru!"

"Open uuuuup," Hong Kong moaned, probably sick of China hiding, and sunk to the ground in front of the door. "You took my other laptop and I need it back anyway. Besides, they totally accepted the guy so let me innn-"

Hong Kong was thrown in between the wall and the door with a protest of "OW!" as China threw it open.

"I NEED TO SEE THAT LETTER. ARU."

Korea, baffled, handed him the thing with stuff. China's eyes glazed over the letters, barely absorbing any of it except the key words.

Without a word, he flew back into his room and landed on the bed weakly.

"This is sooo awesome, aruuu~"

Hong Kong and Korea looked at each other and then at their brother. Had the thing with stuff hypnotized him, too?

"Umm, _ge ge? _Why are you so happy about this?"

"You mean to say," China droned creepily, "Why am I so happy that in a European-dominant world organization, East Asia gained a high level of representation? Why am I so happy that my economic strategy has finally been recognized as key professionally?"

"Oh." Hong Kong looked like everything had gone over his head. "All right, s'long as you still pay my cell phone bill."

_Ding dong!_

"Korea, get the door," China deadpanned, covering his face with a pillow. "Hong Kong, get me some food."

* * *

><p>"Hi, Korea."<p>

Taiwan was smiling up at him.

Whoa. Taiwan didn't just _show up_ at China's house like this. She hadn't been on speaking terms with China for years except for special events (such as his Olympic party). So what was she doing here of her own free will?

With Vietnam, no less.

"Hi, _mei mei. _Both of you. Uhh. Come on in."

His little sisters both hugged him- _real _hugs, like God was in his heaven and all was right with the world. He was pretty sure Vietnam didn't give out hugs very often. She was more stoic than that.

"We came to give Ch- _ge ge _this," Taiwan said, handing Korea a box of chocolates. "Is he here?"

"Yeah. He's here, da-ze." Korea still couldn't believe his eyes. "I'll go get him."

* * *

><p>China was gaping.<p>

Taiwan was trying to keep smiling.

Vietnam was staring blankly.

Hong Kong had busted out the popcorn.

Korea was standing awkwardly off to the side.

"Your influence within the International Monetary Fund will probably open more doors for East and Southeast Asia," Vietnam murmured. "So we felt it would be best to congratulate you."

China blinked. "Y-yeah, it probably will, aru. Thanks."

"No." Taiwan looked her elder in the eye. "We should be thanking you."

China made a sound that sounded like he wanted to say something but decided against it.

Korea grabbed a handful of popcorn and munched loudly, but realized the loud noise might make things worse.

"Both of you," China started, getting a grip on himself. "I know things haven't been really all that great between us lately, but can I ask of both of you one thing? As an older brother, not China, aru."

The girls glanced at each other quickly, but nodded in the end.

"May I please have a hug, too?"

* * *

><p>I thought bringing the girls into the house and breaking up the sausage-plus-China-fest would make a nice ending. Asia-Pacific politics... all the hate between the countries... it always makes me cry. I just want them all to get along and *blubbers*<p>

(Someone in the background: SHE DOESN'T EVEN GO HERE!)

Thanks to each and every one of you wonderful people who reviewed/favorited/story-alerted/dealt with my epic failures politely/stuck with me through all this. I deeply appreciated all of your feedback, and I enjoyed getting the chance to meet you all. You guys gave me a lot more self-confidence (I'm self-deprecatory, if you couldn't tell XD), and more importantly, helped me learn.

A LOT. :D

Hopefully I'll get a chance to read, write, and review more sometime soon! For now, Pockyvore signing out. 3


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